S.  EDWIN  CORLE,  JR. 

HIS   BOOK 


THE  LIBRARY 
OF 

THE  UNIVERSITY 

OF  CALIFORNIA 

LOS  ANGELES 

IN  MEMORY  OF 
EDWIN  CORLE 

PRESENTED  BY 
JEAN  CORLE 


RASPBERRY  JAM 


CAROLYN     WELLS9 

Baffling  detective  stories  in  which  Fleming  Stone, 
the  great  American  Detective,  displays  his  re- 
markable ingenuity  for  unravelling  mysteries 


THE  DIAMOND  PIN 
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THE  CURVED  BLADES 
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ANYBODY  BUT  ANNE 
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"  YES — THAT  IS — YES,  OF  COURSE  !      WAKE   HIM   UP,  FERDINAND  " 

Paye  110 


RASPBERRY  JAM 


By  CAROLYN  WELLS 

Author  of  "A  Chain  of  Evidence,"  "Picky  Fan,"  etc. 


WITH  A  FRONTISPIECE  IN  COLOR  B1 

GAYLE  HOSKINS 


PHILADELPHIA  AND  LONDON 

J.  B.  LIPPINCOTT  COMPANY 

1920 


COPYRIGHT,    ipip  AND   1920,    BY  FRANK  A.  MUNSEY  COMPANY 
COPYRIGHT,   1920,  BY  J.   B.  LIPPINCOTT  COMPANY 


PRINTED   BY  J.   B.  LIPPINCOTT  COMPANY 
AT  THE  WASHINGTON  SQUARE  PRESS 
PHILADELPHIA,    U.  S.  A, 


CONTENTS 


FACT 

I.    THE  GREAT  HANLON 7 

II.    A  TRIP  TO  NEWARK 27 

III.  THE  STUNT t 44 

IV.  THE  EMBURYS 62 

V.    THE  EXPLANATION 79 

VI.    A  SLAMMED  DOOR 96 

VII.    A  VISION 113 

VIII.    THE  EXAMINER 130 

IX.    HAMLET 148 

X.    A  CONFESSION 165 

XI.    Fm 182 

XII.    IK  HANLON'S  OFFICE 199 

XIII.  FLEMING  STONE 216 

XIV.  THE  FIVE  SENSES 233 

XV.    MARIGNY  THE  MEDIUM 248 

XVI.    FIBSY'S  BUSY  DAY 266 

XVII.    HANLON'S  AMBITION 283 

XVIII.    THE  GUILTY  ONE 298 


203; 


RASPBERRY  JAM 

CHAPTER  I 

THE  GREAT  HANLON 

"  You  may  contradict  me  as  flat  as  a  flounder, 
Eunice,  but  that  won't  alter  the  facts.  There  is 
something  in  telepathy — there  is  something  in 

mind-reading " 

|i  "If  you  could  read  my  mind,  Aunt  Abby,  you'd 
drop  that  subject.  For  if  you  keep  on,  I  may  say 
what  I  think,  and " 

"  Oh,  that  won't  bother  me  in  the  least.  I  know 
what  you  think,  but  your  thoughts  are  so  chaotic — 
so  ignorant  of  the  whole  matter — that  they  are 
worthless.  Now,  listen  to  this  from  the  paper: 
'  Hanlon  will  walk  blindfolded — blindfolded,  mind 
you — through  the  streets  of  Newark,  and  will  find 
an  article  hidden  by  a  representative  of  The  Free 
Press/  Of  course,  you  know,  Eunice,  the  newspaper 
people  are  on  the  square — why,  there'd  be  no  sense 
to  the  whole  thing  otherwise!  I  saw  an  exhibition 
once,  you  were  a  little  girl  then;  I  remember  you 
flew  into  such  a  rage  because  you  couldn't  go.  Well, 
where  was  I  ?  Let  me  see — oh,  yes — '  Hanlon ' 


8  RASPBERRY  JAM 

H'm — h'm — why,  my  goodness!  it's  to-morrow! 
How  I  do  want  to  go!  Do  you  suppose  Sanford 
would  take  us  ?  " 

"  I  do  not,  unless  he  loses  his  mind  first  Aunt 
Abby,  you're  crazy!  What  is  the  thing,  anyway? 
Some  common  street  show  ?  " 

"  If  you'd  listen,  Eunice,  and  pay  a  little  atten- 
tion, you  might  know  what  I'm  talking  about.  But 
as  soon  as  I  say  telepathy — you  begin  to  laugh  and 
make  fun  of  it  all ! " 

"  I  haven't  heard  anything  yet  to  make  fun  of. 
What's  it  all  about?" 

But  as  she  spoke,  Eunice  Embury  was  moving 
about  the  room,  the  big  living-room  of  their  Park 
Avenue  apartment,  and  in  a  preoccupied  way  was 
patting  her  household  gods  on  their  shoulders.  A 
readjustment  of  the  pink  carnations  in  a  tall  glass 
yase,  a  turning  round  of  a  long-stemmed  rose  in  a 
silver  holder,  a  punch  here  and  there  to  the  pillows 
of  the  davenport  and  at  last  dropping  down  on  her 
'desk  chair  as  a  hovering  butterfly  settles  on  a 
chosen  flower. 

A  moment  more  and  she  was  engrossed  in  some 
letters,  and  Aunt  Abby  sighed  resignedly,  quite  hope- 
less now  of  interesting  her  niece  in  her  project. 

"  All  the  same,  I'm  going,"  she  remarked,  nod- 
cling  her  head  at  the  back  of  the  graceful  figure  sit- 


THE  GREAT  HANLON  9 

ting  at  the  desk.  "  Newark  isn't  so  far  away ;  I 
could  go  alone — or  maybe  take  Maggie — she'd  love 
it —  '  Start  from  the  Oberon  Theatre — at  2  P.M. — ' 
'  H'm,  I  could  have  an  early  lunch  and — '  hidden  in 
any  part  of  the  city — only  mentally  directed — not 
a  word  spoken — '  Just  think  of  that,  Eunice!  It 
doesn't  seem  credible  that — oh,  my  goodness!  to- 
morrow is  Red  Cross  day!  Well,  I  can't  help  it; 
such  a  chance  as  this  doesn't  happen  twice.  I  wish  I 
could  coax  Sanford " 

"  You  can't,"  murmured  Eunice,  without  look- 
ing up  from  her  writing. 

"  Then  I'll  go  alone!  "  Aunt  Abby  spoke  with 
spirit,  and  her  bright  black  eyes  snapped  with  deter- 
mination as  she  nodded  her  white  head.  "  You  can't 
monopolize  the  will-power  of  the  whole  family, 
Eunice  Embury !  " 

"  I  don't  want  to !  But  I  can  have  a  voice  in  the 
matters  of  my  own  house  and  family — yes,  and 
guests!  I  can't  spare  Maggie  to-morrow.  You 
well  know  Sanford  won't  go  on  any  such  wild- 
goose  chase  with  you,  and  I'm  sure  I  won't.  You 
can't  go  alone — and  anyway,  the  whole  thing  is  bosh 
and  nonsense.  Let  me  hear  no  more  of  it !  " 

Eunice  picked  up  her  pen,  but  she  cast  a  side- 
long glance  at  her  aunt  to  see  if  she  accepted 
the  situation. 


10  RASPBERRY  JAM 

She  did  not.  Miss  Abby  Ames  was  a  lady  of 
decision,  and  she  had  one  hobby,  for  the  pursuit  of 
which  she  would  attempt  to  overcome  any  obstacle. 

"  You  needn't  hear  any  more  of  it,  Eunice,"  she 
said,  curtly.  "  I  am  not  a  child  to  be  allowed  out 
or  kept  at  home !  I  shall  go  to  Newark  to-morrow 
to  see  this  performance,  and  I  shall  go  alone,  and — " 

"  You'll  do  nothing  of  the  sort !  You'd  look  nice 
starting  off  alone  on  a  railroad  trip !  Why,  I  don't 
believe  you've  ever  been  to  Newark  in  your  life! 
Nobody  has !  It  isn't  done !  " 

Eunice  was  half  whimsical,  half  angry,  but  her 
stormy  eyes  presaged  combat  and  her  rising  color 
indicated  decided  annoyance. 

"  Done !  "  cried  her  aunt.  "  Conventions  mean 
nothing  to  me !  Abby  Ames  makes  social  laws — she 
does  not  obey  those  made  by  others !  " 

"  You  can't  do  that  in  New  York,  Aunt  Abby. 
In  your  old  Boston,  perhaps  you  had  a  certain  dic- 
tatorship, but  it  won't  do  here.  Moreover,  I  have 
rights  as  your  hostess,  and  I  forbid  you  to  go  sky- 
larking about  by  yourself." 

"  You  amuse  me,  Eunice!  " 

"  I  had  no  intention  of  being  funny,  I  assure 
you/' 

"While  not  distinctly  humorous,  the  idea  of 
your  forbidding  me  is,  well — oh,  my  gracious, 


THE  GREAT  HANLON  11 

Eunice,  listen  to  this :  '  The  man  chosen  for  Han- 
Ion's  "  guide  "  is  the  Hon.  James  L.  Mortimer — ' 
— h'm — '  High  Street — '  Why,  Eunice,  I've  heard 
of  Mortimer — he's " 

"  I  don't  care  who  he  is,  Aunt  Abby,  and  I  wish 
you'd  drop  the  subject." 

"  I  won't  drop  it — it's  too  interesting !  Oh,  my ! 
I  wish  we  could  go  out  there  in  the  big  car — then 
we  could  follow  him  round " 

"  Hush !  Go  out  to  Newark  in  the  car !  Trail 
round  the  streets  and  alleys  after  a  fool  mountebank ! 
With  a  horde  of  gamins  and  low,  horrid  men 
crowding  about " 

They  won't  be  allowed  to  crowd  about !  " 

"  And  yelling " 


"  I  admit  the  yelling- 


"  Aunt  Abby,  you're  impossible ! "  Eunice  rose, 
and  scowled  irately  at  her  aunt.  Her  temper,  al- 
ways quick,  was  at  times  ungovernable,  and  was 
oftenest  roused  at  the  suggestion  of  any  topic  or 
proceeding  that  jarred  on  her  taste.  Exclusive  to 
the  point  of  absurdity,  fastidious  in  all  her  ways, 
Mrs.  Embury  was,  so  far  as  possible,  in  the  world 
but  not  of  it. 

Both  she  and  her  husband  rejoiced  in  the  small- 
ness  of  their  friendly  circle,  and  shrank  from  any 
unnecessary  association  with  hoi  polloi. 


12  RASPBERRY  JAM 

And  Aunt  Abby  Ames,  their  not  entirely  wel- 
come guest,  was  of  a  different  nature,  and  possessed 
of  another  scale  of  standards. 

Secure  in  her  New  England  aristocracy,  calmly 
conscious  of  her  innate  refinement,  she  permitted 
herself  any  lapses  from  conventional  laws  that  rec- 
ommended themselves  to  her  inclination. 

And  it  cannot  be  denied  that  the  investigation  of 
her  pet  subject,  the  satisfaction  of  her  curiosity 
concerning  occult  matters  and  her  diligent  inquiries 
into  the  mysteries  of  the  supernatural  did  lead  her 
into  places  and  scenes  not  at  all  in  harmony  with 
Eunice's  ideas  of  propriety. 

"  Not  another  word  of  that  rubbish,  Auntie ;  the 
subject  is  taboo,"  and  Eunice  waved  her  hand  with 
the  air  of  one  who  dismisses  a  matter  completely. 

"  Don't  you  think  you  can  come  any  of  your 
high  and  mighty  airs  on  me ! "  retorted  the  elder 
lady.  "  It  doesn't  seem  so  very  many  years  ago  that 
I  spanked  you  and  shut  you  in  the  closet  for  im- 
pudence. The  fact  that  you  are  now  Mrs.  San  ford 
Embury  instead  of  little  Eunice  Ames  hasn't  changed 
my  attitude  toward  you !  " 

"  Oh,  Auntie,  you  are  too  ridiculous ! "  and 
Eunice  laughed  outright  "  But  the  tables  are 
turned,  and  I  am  not  only  Mrs.  Sanford  Embury 


THE  GREAT  HANLON  13 

but  your  hostess,  and,  as  such,  entitled  to  your  polite 
regard  for  my  wishes." 

"  Tomfoolery  talk,  my  dear;  I'll  give  you  all  the 
polite  regard  you  are  entitled  to,  but  I  shall  carry 
out  my  own  wishes,  even  though  they  run  contrary 
to  yours.  And  to-morrow  I  prance  out  to  Newark, 
N.  J.,  your  orders  to  the  contrary  notwithstanding!" 

The  aristocratic  old  head  went  up  and  the  aristo- 
cratic old  nose  sniffed  disdainfully,  for  though 
Eunice  Embury  was  strong-willed,  her  aunt  was 
equally  so,  and  in  a  clash  of  opinions  Miss  Ames  not 
infrequently  won  out. 

Eunice  didn't  sulk,  that  was  not  her  nature ;  she 
turned  back  to  her  writing  desk  with  an  offended 
air,  but  with  a  smile  as  of  one  who  tolerates  the 
vagaries  of  an  inferior.  This,  she  knew,  would  irri- 
tate her  aunt  more  than  further  words  could  do. 

And  yet,  Eunice  Embury  was  neither  mean  nor 
spiteful  of  disposition.  She  had  a  furious  temper, 
but  she  tried  hard  to  control  it,  and  when  it  did  break 
loose,  the  spasm  was  but  of  short  duration  and  she 
was  sorry  for  it  afterward.  Her  husband  declared 
he  had  tamed  her,  and  that  since  her  marriage, 
about  two  years  ago,  his  wise,  calm  influence  had 
curbed  her  tendency  to  fly  into  a  rage  and  had  made 
her  far  more  equable  and  placid  of  disposition. 
His  methods  had  been  drastic — somewhat  like 


14  RASPBERRY  JAM 

those  of  Petruchio  toward  Katharine.  When  his 
wife  grew  angry,  Sanford  Embury  grew  more  so 
and  by  harder  words  and  more  scathing  sarcasms 
he — as  he  expressed  it — took  the  wind  out  of  her 
sails  and  rendered  her  helplessly  vanquished. 

And  yet  they  were  a  congenial  pair.  Their 
tastes  were  similar;  they  liked  the  same  people,  the 
same  books,  the  same  plays.  Eunice  approved  of 
Sanford's  correct  ways  and  perfect  intuitions  and 
he  admired  her  beauty  and  dainty  grace. 

Neither  of  them  loved  Aunt  Abby — the  sister 
of  Eunice's  father — but  her  annual  visit  was  cus- 
tomary and  unavoidable. 

The  city  apartment  of  the  Sanf  ords  had  no  guest- 
room, and  therefore  the  visitor  must  needs  occupy 
Eunice's  charming  boudoir  and  dressing-room  as  a 
bedroom.  This  inconvenienced  the  Emburys,  but 
they  put  up  with  it  perforce. 

Nor  would  they  have  so  disliked  to  entertain  the 
old  lady  had  it  not  been  for  her  predilection  for 
occult  matters.  Her  visit  to  their  home  coincided 
with  her  course  of  Clairvoyant  Sittings  and  her 
class  of  Psychic  Development. 

These  took  place  at  houses  in  undesirable,  some- 
times unsavory  localities  and  only  Aunt  Abby's  im- 
movable determination  made  it  possible  for  her 
to  attend. 


THE  GREAT  HANLON  15 

A  large  text-book,  "  The  Voice  of  the  Future," 
was  her  inseparable  companion,  and  one  of  her 
chief,  though,  as  yet,  unfulfilled,  desires  was  to 
have  a  Reading  given  at  the  Embury  home  by  the 
Swami  Ramananda. 

Eunice,  by  dint  of  stern  disapproval,  and  San- 
ford,  by  his  good-natured  chaffing  and  ridicule  had 
so  far  prevented  this  calamity,  but  both  feared  that 
Aunt  Abby  might  yet  outwit  them  and  have  her 
coveted  seance  after  all. 

Outside  of  this  phase  of  her  character,  Miss 
Ames  was  not  an  undesirable  guest.  She  had  a  good 
sense  of  humor,  a  kind  and  generous  heart  and  was 
both  perceptive  and  responsive  in  matters  of  house- 
hold interest. 

Owing  to  the  early  death  of  Eunice's  mother, 
Aunt  Abby  had  brought  up  the  child,  and  had  done 
her  duty  by  her  as  she  saw  it 

It  was  after  Eunice  had  married  that  Miss  Ames 
became  interested  in  mystics  and  with  a  few  of  her 
friends  in  Boston  had  formed  a  circle  for  the  pur- 
suance of  the  cult. 

Her  life  had  otherwise  been  empty,  indeed,  for 
the  girl  had  given  her  occupation  a-plenty,  and  that 
removed,  Miss  Abby  felt  a  vague  want  of  interest. 

Eunice  Ames  had  not  been  easy  to  manage.  Nor 
was  Miss  Abby  Ames  the  best  one  to  be  her  manager. 


16  RASPBERRY  JAM 

The  girl  was  headstrong  and  wilful,  yet  possessed  of 
such  winsome,  persuasive  wiles  that  she  twisted  her 
aunt  round  her  finger. 

Then,  too,  her  quick  temper  served  as  a  rod  and 
many  times  Miss  Ames  indulged  the  girl  against  her 
better  judgment  lest  an  unpleasant  explosion  of 
wrath  should  occur  and  shake  her  nervous  system 
to  its  foundation.  So  Eunice  grew  up,  an  uncurbed, 
untamed,  self-willed  and  self-reliant  girl,  making 
up  her  quarrels  as  fast  as  she  picked  them  and  win- 
ning friends  everywhere  in  spite  of  her  sharp  tongue. 

And  so,  on  this  occasion,  neither  of  the  combat- 
ants held  rancor  more  than  a  few  minutes.  Eunice 
went  on  writing  letters  and  Miss  Abby  went  on 
reading  her  paper,  until  at  five  o'clock,  Ferdinand 
the  butler  brought  in  the  tea-things. 

"Goody!"  cried  Eunice,  jumping  up.  "I  do 
want  some  tea,  don't  you,  Aunty  ?  " 

"Yes,"  and  Miss  Ames  crossed  the  room  to  sit 
beside  her.  "And  I've  an  idea,  Eunice;  I'll  take 
Ferdinand  with  me  to-morrow !  " 

The  butler,  who  was  also  Embury's  valet  and  a 
general  household  steward,  looked  up  quickly.  He 
had  been  in  Miss  Ames'  employ  for  many  years  be- 
fore Eunice's  marriage,  and  now,  in  the  Emburys' 
city  home  was  the  indispensable  major-domo  of 
the  establishment. 


THE  GREAT  HANLON  17 

"  Yes,"  went  on  Aunt  Abby,  "  that  will  make  it 
all  quite  circumspect  and  correct.  Ferdinand,  to- 
morrow you  accompany  me  to  Newark,  New  Jersey." 

"  I  think  not,"  said  Eunice  quietly,  and  dismiss- 
ing Ferdinand  with  a  nod,  she  began  serenely  to 
make  the  tea. 

"Don't  be  silly,  Aunt  Abby,"  she  said;  "you 
can't  go  that  way.  It  would  be  all  right  to  go  with 
Ferdinand,  of  course,  but  what  could  you  do  when 
you  reached  Newark  ?  Race  about  on  foot,  follow- 
ing up  this  clown,  or  whoever  is  performing?  " 

"  We  could  take  a  taxicab " 

:f  You  might  get  one  and  you  might  not.  Now, 
you  will  wait  till  San  comes  home,  and  see  if  he'll  let 
you  have  the  big  car." 

"  Will  you  go  then,  Eunice?  " 

"  No ;  of  course  not.  I  don't  go  to  such  fool 
shows!  There's  the  door!  Sanford's  coming." 

A  step  was  heard  in  the  hall,  a  cheery  voice 
spoke  to  Ferdinand  as  he  took  his  master's  coat  and 
hat  and  then  a  big  man  entered  the  living-room. 

"  Hello,  girls,"  he  said,  gaily;  "  how's  things?  " 

He  kissed  Eunice,  shook  Aunt  Abby's  hand  and 
dropped  into  an  easy  chair. 

"  Things  are  whizzing,"  he  said,  as  he  took  the 
cup  Eunice  poured  for  him.  "  I've  just  come  from 


18  RASPBERRY  JAM 

the  Club,  and  our  outlook  is  rosy-posy.  Old  Hen- 
dricks  is  going  to  get,  badly  left" 

"  It's  all  safe  for  you,  then,  is  it?  "  and  Eunice 
smiled  radiantly  at  her  husband. 

"  Right  as  rain !  The  prize-fights  did  it !  They 
upset  old  Hendrick's  apple-cart  and  spilled  his  beans. 
Lots  of  them  object  to  the  fights  because  of  the 
expense — fighters  are  a  high-priced  bunch — but  I'm 
down  on  them  because  I  think  it  bad  form " 

"  I  should  say  so !  "  put  in  Eunice,  emphatically. 

"  Bad  form  for  an  Athletic  Club  of  gentlemen  to 
have  brutal  exhibitions  for  their  entertainment." 

"  And  what  about  the  Motion-Picture  Theatre?" 

"  The  same  there !  Frightful  expense,  and  also 
rotten  taste!  No,  the  Metropolitan  Athletic  Club 
can't  stoop  to  such  entertainments.  If  it  were  a 
worth-while  little  playhouse,  now,  and  if  they  had 
a  high  class  of  performances,  that  would  be  another 
story.  Hey,  Aunt  Abby  ?  What  do  you  think  ?  " 

"  I  don't  know,  Sanford,  you  know  I'm  ignorant 
on  such  matters.  But  I  want  to  ask  you  something. 
Have  you  read  the  paper  to-day  ?  " 

"  Why,  yes,  being  a  normal  American  citizen,  I 
did  run  through  the  Battle- Ax  of  Freedom.  Why?  " 

"  Did  you  read  about  Hanlon  —  the  great 
Hanlon?" 

"  Musician,  statesman  or  criminal  ?    I  can't  seem 


THE  GREAT  HANLON  19 

to  place  a  really  great  Hanlon.  By  the  way,  Eunice, 
if  Hendricks  blows  in,  ask  him  to  stay  to  dinner, 
will  you  ?  I  want  to  talk  to  him,  but  I  don't  want 
to  seem  unduly  anxious  for  his  company." 

"  Very  well,"  and  Eunice  smiled;  "  if  I  can  per- 
suade him,  I  will." 

"If  you  can! "  exclaimed  Miss  Abby,  her  sar- 
casm entirely  unveiled.  "  Alvord  Hendricks  would 
walk  the  plank  if  you  invited  him  to  do  so!  " 

"  Who  wouldn't?  "  laughed  Embury.  "  I  have 
the  same  confidence  in  my  wife's  powers  of  per- 
suasion that  you  seem  to  have,  Aunt  Abby;  and 
though  I  may  impose  on  her,  I  do  want  her  to  use 
them  upon  me  deadly  r-rival !  " 

"  You  mean  rival  in  your  club  election,"  returned 
Miss  Ames,  "but  he  is  also  your  rival  in  an- 
other way." 

"  Don't  speak  so  cryptically,  Aunt,  dear.  We  all 
know  of  his  infatuation  for  Eunice,  but  he's  only 
one  of  many.  Think  you  he  is  more  dangerous  than, 
say,  friend  Elliott?" 

"Mason  Elliott?  Oh,  of  course,  he  has  been 
an  admirer  of  Eunice  since  they  made  mud-pies 
together." 

"  That's  two,  then,"  Embury  laughed  lightly. 
"  And  Jim  Craft  is  three  and  Halliwell  James  is 
four  and  Guy  Little " 


20  RASPBERRY  JAM 

"  Oh,  don't  include  him,  I  beg  of  you ! "  cried 
Eunice ;  "  he  flats  when  he  sings !  " 

"  Well,  I  could  round  up  a  round  dozen,  who 
would  willingly  cast  sheeps'  eyes  at  my  wife,  but — 
well,  they  don't !  " 

"  They'd  better  not,"  laughed  Eunice,  and  Em- 
bury added,  "  Not  if  I  see  them  first !  " 

"  Isn't  it  funny,"  said  Aunt  Abby,  reminiscently, 
"  that  Eunice  did  choose  you  out  of  that  Cam- 
bridge bunch." 

"  I  chose  her,"  corrected  Embury,  "  and  don't 
take  that  wrong !  I  mean  that  I  swooped  down  and 
carried  her  off  under  their  very  noses !  Didn't 
I,  Firebrand?" 

"  The  only  way  you  could  get  me,"  agreed 
Eunice,  saucily. 

"  Oh,  I  don't  know ! "  and  Embury  smiled. 
"  You  weren't  so  desperately  opposed." 

"  No;  but  she  was  undecided,"  said  Aunt  Abby; 
"  why,  for  weeks  before  your  engagement  was  an- 
nounced, Eunice  couldn't  make  up  her  mind  for 
certain.  There  was  Mason  Elliott  and  Al  Hen- 
dricks,  both  as  determined  as  you  were." 

"  I  know  it,  Aunt.  Good  Lord,  I  guess  I  knew 
those  boys  all  my  life,  and  I  knew  all  their  love 
affairs  as  well  as  they  knew  all  mine." 


THE  GREAT  HANLON  21 

"  You  had  others,  then  ?  "  and  Eunice  opened  her 
brown  eyes  in  mock  amazement. 

"Rather !  How  could  I  know  you  were  the  dear- 
est girl  in  the  world  if  I  had  no  one  to  compare 
you  with  ?  " 

"  Well,  then  I  had  a  right  to  have  other  beaux." 

"  Of  course  you  did !  I  never  objected.  But 
now,  you're  my  wife,  and  though  all  the  men  in 
Christendom  may  admire  you,  you  are  not  to  give 
one  of  them  a  glance  that  belongs  to  me." 

"No,  sir;  I  won't,"  and  Eunice's  long  lashes 
dropped  on  her  cheeks  as  she  assumed  an  absurdly 
overdone  meekness. 

"  I  was  surprised,  though,"  pursued  Aunt  Abby, 
still  reminiscent,  "  when  Eunice  married  you,  San- 
ford.  Mr.  Mason  is  so  much  more  intellectual  and 
Mr.  Hendricks  so  much  better  looking." 

"Thank  you,  lady !  "  and  Embury  bowed  gravely. 
"  But  you  see,  I  have  that — er — indescribable 
charm — that  nobody  can  resist." 

"  You  have,  you  rascal !  "  and  Miss  Ames  beamed 
on  him.  "  And  I  think  this  a  favorable  moment  to 
ask  a  favor  of  your  Royal  Highness." 

"  Out  with  it.  I'll  grant  it,  to  the  half  of  my 
kingdom,  but  don't  dip  into  the  other  half." 

"  Well,  it's  a  simple  little  favor,  after  all.     I 


22  RASPBERRY  JAM 

want  to  go  out  to  Newark  tomorrow  in  the 
big  car " 

"  Newark,  New  Jersey  ?  " 

"  Is  there  any  other?  " 

"Yep;  Ohio." 

"  Well,  the  New  Jersey  one  will  do  me,  this  time. 
Oh,  Sanf ord,  do  let  me  go !  A  man  is  going  to  will 
another  man — blindfolded,  you  know — to  find  a 
thingumbob  that  he  hid — nobody  knows  where — 
and  he  can't  see  a  thing,  and  he  doesn't  know  any- 
body and  the  guide  man  is  Mr.  Mortimer — don't  you 
remember,  his  mother  used  to  live  in  Cambridge?  she 
was  an  Emmins — well,  anyway,  it's  the  most  mar- 
velous exhibition  of  thought  transference,  or  mind- 
reading,  that  has  ever  been  shown — and  I  must  go. 
Do  let  me  ? — please,  Sanf  ord !  " 

"  My  Lord,  Aunt  Abby,  you've  got  me  all  mixed 
up!  I  remember  the  Mortimer  boy,  but  what's  he 
doing  blindfolded?  " 

"No;  it's  the  Hanlon  man  who's  blindfolded, 
and  I  can  go  with  Ferdinand — and " 

"  Go  with  Ferdinand !  Is  it  a  servants'  ball — 
or  what?" 

"No,  no;  oh,  if  you'd  only  listen,  Sanf  ord!" 

"Well,  I  will,  in  a  minute,  Aunt  Abby.  But 
wait  till  I  tell  Eunice  something.  You  see,  dear,  if 
Hendricks  does  show  up,  I  can  pump  him  judiciously 


THE  GREAT  HANLON  23 

and  find  out  where  the  Meredith  brothers  stand. 
Then " 

"  All  right,  San,  I'll  see  that  he  stays.  Now  do 
settle  Aunt  Abby  on  this  crazy  scheme  of  hers.  She 
doesn't  want  to  go  to  Newark  at  all " 

"  I  do,  I  do !  "  cried  the  old  lady. 

"  Between  you  and  me,  Eunice,  I  believe  she 
does  want  to  go,"  and  Embury  chuckled.  "  Where's 
the  paper,  Aunt  ?  Let  me  see  what  it's  all  about" 

"  'A  Fair  Test/  "  he  read  aloud.  "  '  Positive  evi- 
dence for  or  against  the  theory  of  thought  trans- 
ference. The  mysterious  Hanlon  to  perform  a 
seeming  miracle.  Sponsored  by  the  Editor  of  the 
Newark  Free  Press,  assisted  by  the  prominent  citi- 
zen, James  L.  Mortimer,  done  in  broad  daylight  in 
the  sight  of  crowds  of  people,  tomorrow's  perform- 
ance will  be  a  revelation  to  doubters  or  a  triumph 
indeed  for  those  who  believe  in  telepathy.'  H'm — 
h'm — but  what's  he  going  to  do  ?  " 

"  Read  on,  read  on,  Sanford,"  cried  Aunt 
Abby,  excitedly. 

" '  Starting  from  the  Oberon  Theatre  at  two 
o'clock,  Hanlon  will  undertake  to  find  a  penknife, 
previously  hidden  in  a  distant  part  of  the  city,  its 
whereabouts  known  only  to  the  Editor  of  the  Free 
Press  and  to  Mr.  Mortimer.  Hanlon  is  to  be  blind- 
folded by  a  committee  of  citizens  and  is  to  be  fol- 


24.  RASPBERRY  JAM 

lowed,  not  preceded  by  Mr.  Mortimer,  who  is  to  will 
Hanlon  in  the  right  direction,  and  to  "  guide  "  him 
merely  by  mental  will-power.  There  is  to  be  no  word 
spoken  between  these  two  men,  no  personal  contact, 
and  no  possibility  of  a  confederate  or  trickery  of 
any  sort. 

'  Mr.  Mortimer  is  not  a  psychic;  indeed,  he  is 
not  a  student  of  the  occult  or  even  a  believer  in 
telepathy,  but  he  has  promised  to  obey  the  conditions 
laid  down  for  him.  These  are  merely  and  only  that 
he  is  to  follow  Hanlon,  keeping  a  few  steps  behind 
him,  and  mentally  will  the  blindfolded  man  to  go  in 
the  right  direction  to  find  the  hidden  knife.'  " 

"Isn't  it  wonderful,  Sanford,"  breathed  Miss 
Abby,  her  eyes  shining  with  the  delight  of  the 
mystery. 

"  Poppycock !  "  and  Embury  smiled  at  her  as  a 
gullible  child.  "  You  don't  mean  to  say,  aunt,  that 
you  believe  there  is  no  trickery  about  this!  " 

"  But  how  can  there  be?  You  know,  Sanford, 
it's  easy  enough  to  say  '  poppycock '  and  '  fiddle-dee- 
dee  ! '  and  '  gammon '  and  '  spinach ! '  But  just  tell 
me  how  it's  done — how  it  can  be  done  by  trickery  ? 
Suggest  a  means  however  complicated  or  difficult — " 

"Oh,  of  course,  I  can't  I'm  no  charlatan  or 
prestidigitateur !  But  you  know  as  well  as  I  do, 
that  the  thing  is  a  trick " 


THE  GREAT  HANLON  25 

"  I  don't!  And  anyway,  that  isn't  the  point.  I 
want  to  go  to  see  it.  I'm  not  asking  your  opinion 
of  the  performance,  I'm  asking  you  to  let  me  go. 
May  I?" 

"  No,  indeed !  Why,  Aunt  Abby,  it  will  be  a 
terrible  crowd — a  horde  of  ragamuffins  and  ruffians. 
You'd  be  torn  to  pieces " 

"  But  I  want  to,  Sanford,"  and  the  old  lady  was 
on  the  verge  of  tears.  "  I  want  to  see  Hanlon " 

"  Hanlon !    Who  wants  to  see  Hanlon?  " 

The  expected  Hendricks  came  into  the  room,  and 
shaking  hands  as  he  talked,  he  repeated  his  question : 
"  Who  wants  to  see  Hanlon  ?  Because  I  do,  and  I'll 
take  any  one  here  who  is  interested." 

"Oh,  you  angel  man!"  exclaimed  Aunt  Abby, 
her  face  beaming.  "  I  want  to  go!  Will  you  really 
take  me,  Alvord?" 

"  Sure  I  will !  Anybody  else  ?  You  want  to 
see  it,  Eunice?  " 

"  Why,  I  didn't,  but  as  Sanford  just  read  it,  it 
sounded  interesting.  How  would  we  go?  " 

"  I'll  run  you  out  in  my  touring  car.  It  won't 
take  more'n  the  afternoon,  and  it'll  be  a  jolly  picnic. 
Go  along,  San  ?  " 

"  No,  not  on  your  life!  When  did  you  go  fool- 
ish, Alvord?" 

"Oh,  I  always  had  a  notion  toward  that  sort  of 


26  RASPBERRY  JAM 

thing.  I  want  to  see  how  he  does  it.  Don't  think 
I  fall  for  the  telepathy  gag,  but  I  want  to  see  where 
the  little  joker  is — and  then,  too,  I'm  glad  to  please 
the  ladies." 

"I'll  go,"  said  Eunice;  "that  is,  if  you'll  stay 
and  dine  now — and  we  can  talk  it  over  and  plan 
the  trip." 

"  With  all  the  pleasure  in  life,"  returned 
Hendricks. 


CHAPTER  II 

A  TRIP  TO  NEWARK 

PERHAPS  no  factor  is  more  indicative  of  the  type 
of  a  home  life  than  its  breakfast  atmosphere.  For, 
in  America,  it  is  only  a  small  proportion,  even  among 
the  wealthy  who  '  breakfast  in  their  rooms/  And  a 
knowledge  of  the  appointments  and  customs  of  the 
breakfast  are  often  data  enough  to  stamp  the  status 
of  the  household. 

In  the  Embury  home,  breakfast  was  a  pleasant 
send-off  for  the  day.  Both  Sanford  and  Eunice 
were  of  the  sort  who  wake  up  wide-awake,  and  their 
appearance  in  the  dining-room  was  always  an  occa- 
sion of  merry  banter  and  a  leisurely  enjoyment  of 
the  meal.  Aunt  Abby,  too,  was  at  her  best  in  the 
morning,  and  breakfast  was  served  sufficiently  early 
to  do  away  with  any  need  for  hurry  on  San- 
ford's  part. 

The  morning  paper,  save  for  its  headlines,  was 
not  a  component  part  of  the  routine,  and  it  was  an 
exceptionally  interesting  topic  that  caused  it  to 
be  unfolded. 

This  morning,  however,  Miss  Ames  reached  the 

27 


28  RASPBERRY  JAM 

dining-room  before  the  others  and  eagerly  scanned 
the  pages  for  some  further  notes  of  the  affair 
in  Newark. 

But  with  the  total  depravity  of  inanimate  things 
and  with  the  invariable  disappointingness  of  a  news- 
paper, the  columns  offered  no  other  information  than 
a  mere  announcement  of  the  coming  event. 

"  Hunting  for  details  of  your  wild-goose  chase  ?" 
asked  Embury,  as  he  paused  on  the  way  to  his  own 
chair  to  lean  over  Aunt  Abby's  shoulder. 

"  Yes,  and  there's  almost  nothing !  Why  do  you 
take  this  paper  ?  " 

"  You'll  see  it  all  to-day,  so  why  do  you  want 
to  read  about  it?  "  laughed  a  gay  voice,  and  Eunice 
came  in,  all  fluttering  chiffon  and  ribbon  ends. 

She  took  the  chair  Ferdinand  placed  for  her, 
and  picked  up  a  spoon  as  the  attentive  man  set 
grapefruit  at  her  plate. 

The  waitress  was  allowed  to  serve  the  others, 
but  Ferdinand  reserved  to  himself  the  privilege  of 
waiting  on  his  beloved  mistress. 

"Still  of  a  mind  to  go?"  she  said,  smiling  at 
her  aunt. 

"More  than  ever!  It's  a  perfectly  heavenly 
day,  and  we'll  have  a  good  ride,  if  nothing  more." 

"Good  ride!"  chaffed  Embury.  "Don't  you 
fool  yourself,  Aunt  Abby !  The  ride  from  this  burg 


A  TRIP  TO  NEWARK  29 

to  Newark,  N.  J.,  is  just  about  the  most  Godfor- 
saken bit  of  scenery  you  ever  passed  through!  " 

"  I  don't  mind  that.  Al  Hendricks  is  good  com- 
pany, and,  any  way,  I'd  go  through  fire  and  water 
to  see  that  Hanlon  show.  Eunice,  can't  you  and 
Mr.  Hendricks  pick  me  up?  I  want  to  go  to  my 
Psychic  Class  this  morning,  and  there's  no  use  com- 
ing way  back  here  again." 

"  Yes,  certainly ;  we're  going  about  noon,  you 
know,  and  have  lunch  in  Newark." 

"  In  Newark ! "  and  Embury  looked  his 
amazement. 

"  Yes ;  Alvord  said  so  last  night.  He  says  that 
new  hotel  there  is  quite  all  right.  We'll  only  have 
time  for  a  bite,  anyway." 

"  Well,  bite  where  you  like.  By  the  way,  my 
Tiger  girl,  you  didn't  get  that  information  from  our 
friend  last  evening." 

"  No,  San,  I  couldn't,  without  making  it  too 
pointed.  I  thought  I  could  bring  it  in  more  casually 
to-day — say,  at  luncheon." 

"Yes;  that's  good.  But  find  out,  Eunice,  just 
where  the  Merediths  stand.  They  may  swing  the 
whole  vote." 

"  What  vote  ?  "  asked  Aunt  Abby,  who  was  inter- 
ested in  everything. 

"Our  club,  Auntie,"  and  Embury  explained. 


30  RASPBERRY  JAM 

"  You  know  Hendricks  is  president — has  been  for 
years — and  we're  trying  to  oust  him  in  favor  of 
yours  truly." 

"  You,  Sanford !    Do  you  mean  you  want  to  put 
him  out  and  put  yourself  in  his  place?  " 
"  Exactly  that,  my  lady." 
"  But — how  queer !    Does  he  know  it  ?  " 
"  Rather !    Yes — even  on  calm  second  thought, 
I  should  say  Hendricks  knows  it ! " 

"  But  I  shouldn't  think  you  two  would  be  friends 
in  such  circumstances." 

"That's  the  beauty  of  it,  ma'am;  we're  bosom 
friends,  as  you  know;  and  yet,  we're  fighting  for 
that  presidency  like  two  cats  of  Kilkenny." 
"  The  New  York  Athletic  Club,  is  it?  " 
"  Oh,  no,  ma'am !     Not  so,  but  far  otherwise. 
The  Metropolitan  Athletic  Club — if  you  please." 
'"'  Yes,  I  know — I'd  forgotten  the  name." 
"  Don't  mix  up  the  two — they're  deadly  rivals." 
"  Why  do  you  want  to  be  president,  Sanford?  " 
"  That's  a  long  tale,  but  in  a  nutshell,  purely  and 
solely  for  the  good  of  the  club." 

"  And  that's  the  truth,"  declared  Eunice.  "  San- 
ford is  getting  himself  disliked  in  some  quarters, 
influential  ones,  too,  and  he's  making  life-long 
enemies — not  Alvord,  but  others — and  it  is  all  be- 
cause he  has  the  real  interests  of  the  club  at  heart. 


A  TRIP  TO  NEWARK  31 

Al  Hendricks  is  running  it  into — into  a  mud-puddle ! 
Isn't  he,  San?" 

"  Well,  yes,  though  I  shouldn't  have  thought  of 
using  that  word.  But,  he  is  bringing  its  gray  hairs 
in  sorrow  to  the  grave — or  will,  if  he  remains  in 
office,  instead  of  turning  it  over  to  a  well-balanced 
man  of  good  judgment  and  unerring  taste — say,  like 
one  Sanford  Embury." 

"  You  certainly  are  not  afflicted  with  false  pride, 
Sanford,"  and  Aunt  Abby  bit  into  her  crisp  toast 
with  a  decided  snap. 

"Why,  thank  you,"  and  Embury  smiled  as  he 
purposely  misinterpreted  her  words.  "  I  quite  agree, 
Aunt,  that  my  pride  is  by  no  means  false.  It  is  a 
just  and  righteous  pride  in  my  own  merits,  both 
natural  and  acquired." 

He  winked  at  Eunice  across  the  table,  and  she 
smiled  back  appreciatively.  Aunt  Abby  gave  him 
what  was  meant  to  be  a  scathing  glance,  but  which 
turned  to  a  nod  of  admiration. 

"  That's  so,  Sanford,"  she  admitted.  "  Al  Hen- 
dricks is  a  nice  man,  but  he  falls  down  on  some 
things.  Hasn't  he  been  a  good  president  ?  " 

"  Until  lately,  Aunt  Abby.  Now,  he's  all  mixed 
up  with  a  crowd  of  intractables — sporty  chaps,  who 
want  a  lot  of  innovations  that  the  more  conserva- 
tive element  won't  stand  for." 


32 

"  Why,  they  want  prize-fights  and  a  movie  the- 
atre— right  in  the  club !  "  informed  Eunice.  "  And 
it  means  too  much  expense,  besides  being  a  horrid, 
low-down ' ' 

"  There,  there,  Tiger,"  and  Sanford  shook  his 
head  at  her.  "  Let  us  say  those  things  are  unpal- 
atable to  a  lot  of  us  old  fogies " 

"  Stop !  I  won't  have  you  call  yourself  old 
— or  fogyish,  either!  You're  the  farthest  possible 
removed  from  that!  Why,  you're  no  older  than 
Al  Hendricks." 

"You  were  all  children  together,"  said  Aunt 
Abby,  as  if  imparting  a  bit  of  new  information; 
"  you  three,  and  Mason  Elliott.  Why,  when  you 
were  ten  or  eleven,  Eunice,  those  three  boys  were 
eternally  camping  out  in  the  front  yard,  waiting  for 
you  to  get  your  hair  curled  and  go  out  to  play.  And 
later,  they  all  hung  around  to  take  you  to  parties, 
and  then,  later  still — not  so  much  later,  either — they 
all  wanted  to  marry  you." 

"  Why,  Auntie,  you're  telling  the  '  whole  story 
of  my  life  and  what's  my  real  name!'  Sanford 
knows  all  this,  and  knows  that  he  cut  out  the  other 
two — though  I'm  not  saying  they  wanted  to 
marry  me." 

"  It  goes  without  saying,"  and  her  husband  gave 
her  a  gallant  bow.  "  But,  great  heavens,  Eunice,  if 


A  TRIP  TO  NEWARK  33 

you'd  married  those  other  two — I  mean  one  of  'em 
r— either  one — you'd  have  been  decidedly  out  of  your 
element.  Hendricks,  though  a  bully  chap,  is  a  man 
of  impossible  tastes,  and  Elliott  is  a  prig — pure  and 
simple !  I,  you  see,  strike  a  happy  medium.  And, 
Speaking  of  such  things,  are  your  mediums  always 
happy,  Aunt  Abby?  " 

"  How  you  do  rattle  on,  Sanf ord !  A  true 
medium  is  so  absorbed  in  her  endeavors,  so  wrapped 
tip  in  her  work,  she  is,  of  course,  happy — I  suppose. 
I  never  thought  about  it" 

"  Well,  don't  go  out  of  your  way  to  find  out. 
It  isn't  of  vital  importance  that  I  should  know.  May 
I  be  excused,  Madam  Wife?  I'm  called  to  the  busy 
marts — and  all  that  sort  of  thing." 

Embury  rose  from  the  table,  a  big,  tall  man, 
graceful  in  his  every  motion,  as  only  a  trained  ath- 
lete can  be.  Devoted  to  athletics,  he  kept  himself 
in  the  pink  of  condition  physically,  and  this  was  no 
small  aid  to  his  vigorous  mentality  and  splendid 
business  acumen. 

"Wait  a  minute,  San,"  and  for  the  first  time 
that  morning  there  was  a  note  of  timidity  in  Eunice's 
soft  voice.  "Please  give  me  a  little  money, 
won't  you?" 

"  Money,  you  grasping  young  person !  What 
do  you  want  it  for  ?  " 

3 


RASPBERRY  JAM 


"  Why  —  I'm  going  to  Newark,  you  know 


"  Going  to  Newark  !  Yes,  but  you're  going  in 
Hendricks'  car  —  that  doesn't  require  a  ticket, 
does  it?" 

"  No  —  but  I  —  I  might  want  to  give  the  chauffeur 
something  when  I  get  out  -  " 

"  Nonsense  !  Not  Hendricks'  chauffeur.  That's 
all  right  when  you're  with  formal  friends  or  com- 
parative strangers  —  but  it  would  be  ridiculous  to  tip 
Hendricks'  Gus!" 

Embury  swung  into  the  light  topcoat  held  by  the 
faithful  Ferdinand. 

"  But,  dear,"  and  Eunice  rose,  and  stood  by  her 
husband,  "  I  do  want  a  little  money  -  "  she  fin- 
gered nervously  the  breakfast  napkin  she  was 
still  holding. 

"What  for?"  was  the  repeated  inquiry. 

"  Oh,  you  see  —  I  might  want  to  do  a  little  shop- 
ping in  Newark  -  " 

"  Shop  in  Newark  !  That's  a  good  one  !  Why, 
girlie,  you  never  want  to  shop  outside  of  little  old 
New  York,  and  you  know  it.  Shop  in  Newark  !  " 

Embury  laughed  at  the  very  idea. 

"  But  —  I  might  see  something  in  a  window  that's 
just  what  I  want." 

"Then  make  a  note  of  it,  and  buy  it  in  New 
York.  You  have  an  account  at  all  the  desirable 


A  TRIP  TO  NEWARK  3i 

shops  here,  and  I  never  kick  at  the  bills,  do  I,  now  ?  " 

"  No ;  but  a  woman  does  want  a  little  cash  with 
her " 

"  Oh,  that,  of  course !  I  quite  subscribe  to  that. 
But  I  gave  you  a  couple  of  dollars  yesterday." 

"  Yes,  but  I  gave  one  to  a  Red  Cross  collector, 
and  the  other  I  had  to  pay  out  for  a  C.  O.  D.  charge." 

"  Why  buy  things  C.  O.  D.  when  you  have  ac- 
counts everywhere  ?  " 

"  Oh,  this  was  something  I  saw  advertised  in  the 
evening  paper " 

"  And  you  bought  it  because  it  was  cheap !  Oh, 
you  women!  Now,  Eunice,  that's  just  a  case  in 
point.  I  want  my  wife  to  have  everything  she  wants 
— everything  in  reason,  but  there's  no  sense  in 
throwing  money  away.  Now,  kiss  me,  sweetheart, 
for  I'm  due  at  a  directors'  meeting  in  two  shakes — 
or  thereabouts." 

Embury  snapped  the  fastening  of  his  second 
glove,  and,  hat  in  hand,  held  out  his  arms  to  his  wife. 

She  made  one  more  appeal. 

"  You're  quite  right,  San,  maybe  I  didn't  need 
that  C.  O.  D.  thing.  But  I  do  want  a  little  chicken- 
feed  in  my  purse  when  I  go  out  to-day.  Maybe 
they'll  take  up  a  collection." 

"  A  silver  offering  for  the  Old  Ladies'  Home, 
eh?  Well,  tell  'em  to  come  to  me  and  I'll  sign  their 


36  RASPBERRY  JAM 

subscription  paper!  Now,  good-by,  Dolly  Gray! 
I'm  off!" 

With  a  hearty  kiss  on  Eunice's  red  lips,  and  a 
gay  wave  of  his  hand  to  Aunt  Abby,  Embury  went 
away  and  Ferdinand  closed  the  door  behind  him. 

"  I  can't  stand  it,  Aunt  Abby,"  Eunice  exclaimed, 
as  the  butler  disappeared  into  the  pantry ;  "  if  San- 
ford  were  a  poor  man  it  would  be  different.  But 
he's  made  more  money  this  year  than  ever  before, 
and  yet,  he  won't  give  me  an  allowance  or  even  a 
little  bit  of  ready  money." 

"  But  you  have  accounts,"  Aunt  Abby  said,  ab- 
sently, for  she  was  scanning  the  paper  now. 

"Accounts!  Of  course,  I  have!  But  there  are 
a  thousand  things  one  wants  cash  for!  You  know 
that  perfectly  well.  Why,  when  our  car  was  out  of 
commission  last  week  and  I  had  to  use  a  taxicab, 
Sanford  would  give  me  just  enough  for  the  fare  and 
not  a  cent  over  to  fee  the  driver.  And  lots  of  times 
I  need  a  few  dollars  for  charities,  or  some  odds  and 
ends,  and  I  can't  have  a  cent  to  call  my  own!  Al 
Hendricks  may  be  of  coarser  clay  than  Sanford 
Embury,  but  he  wouldn'  treat  a  wife  like  that !  " 

"  It  is  annoying,  Eunice,  but  Sanford  is  so  good 
to  you " 

"  Good  to  me!  Why  shouldn't  he  be?  It  isn't 
a  question  of  goodness  or  of  generosity — it's  just 


A  TRIP  TO  NEWARK  37 

a  fool  whim  of  his,  that  I  mustn't  ask  for  actual 
cash !  I  can  have  all  the  parties  I  want,  buy  all  the 
clothes  I  want,  get  expensive  hats  or  knick-knacks 
of  any  sort,  and  have  them  all  charged.  He's  never 
even  questioned  my  bills — but  has  his  secretary  pay 
them.  And  I  must  have  some  money  in  my  purse ! 
And  I  will !  I  know  ways  to  get  it,  without  begging 
it  from  Sanf ord  Embury !  " 

Eunice's  dark  eyes  flashed  fire,  and  her  cheeks 
burned  scarlet,  for  she  was  furiously  angry. 

"  Now,  now,  my  dear,  don't  take  it  so  to  heart," 
soothed  Aunt  Abby;  "I'll  give  you  some  money. 
I  was  going  to  make  you  a  present,  but  if  you'd 
rather  have  the  money  that  it  would  cost,  say  so." 

"  I  daren't,  Aunt  Abby.  Sanf  ord  would  find 
it  out  and  he'd  be  terribly  annoyed.  It's  one  of  his 
idiosyncrasies,  and  I  have  to  bear  it  as  long  as  I 
live  with  him !  " 

The  gleam  in  the  beautiful  eyes  gave  a  hint  of 
desperate  remedies  that  might  be  applied  to  the 
case,  but  Ferdinand  returned  to  the  room,  and  the 
two  women  quickly  spoke  of  other  things. 

Hendricks'  perfectly  appointed  and  smooth-run- 
ning car  made  the  trip  to  Newark  in  minimum  time. 
Though  the  road  was  not  a  picturesque  one,  the  party 
was  in  gay  spirits  and  the  host  was  indefatigable  in 
his  efforts  to  be  entertaining. 


38  RASPBERRY  JAM 

"  I've  looked  up  this  Hanlon  person,"  he  said, 
"  and  his  record  is  astonishing.  I  mean,  he  does 
astonishing  feats.  He's  a  juggler,  a  sword  swallower 
and  a  card  sharp — that  is,  a  card  wizard.  Of  course, 
he's  a  faker,  but  he's  a  clever  one,  and  I'm  anxious  to 
see  what  his  game  is  this  time.  Of  course,  it's, 
first  of  all,  advertisement  for  the  paper  that's  back- 
ing him,  but  it's  a  new  game.  At  least,  it's  new  over 
here;  they  tell  me  it's  done  to  death  in  England." 

"  Oh,  no,  Alvord,  it  isn't  a  game,"  insisted  Miss 
Ames;  "  if  the  man  is  blindfolded,  he  can't  play  any 
tricks  on  us.  And  he  couldn't  play  tricks  on  news- 
paper men  anyway — they're  too  bright  for  that !  " 

"  I  think  they  are,  too;  that's  why  I'm  interested. 
Warm  enough,  Eunice?  " 

"  Yes,  thank  you,"  and  the  beautiful  face  looked 
happily  content  as  Eunice  Embury  nestled  her  chin 
deeper  into  her  fur  collar. 

For,  though  late  April,  the  day  was  crisply  cool 
and  there  was  a  tang  in  the  bright  sunshiny  air. 
Aunt  Abby  was  almost  as  warmly  wrapped  up  as  in 
midwinter,  and  when,  on  reaching  Newark,  they 
encountered  a  raw  East  wind,  she  shrugged  into  her 
coat  like  a  shivering  Esquimau. 

"  Where  do  we  go  to  see  it?  "  asked  Eunice,  as 
later,  after  luncheon,  she  eagerly  looked  about  at 
the  crowds  massed  everywhere. 


A  TRIP  TO  NEWARK  39 

"  We'll  have  to  reconnoiter,"  Hendricks  replied, 
smiling  at  her  animated  face.  "  Drive  on  to  the 
Oberon,  Gus." 

As  they  neared  the  theatre  the  surging  waves  of 
humanity  barred  their  progress,  and  the  big  car  was 
forced  to  come  to  a  standstill. 

"  I'll  get  out,"  said  Hendricks,  "  and  make  a  few 
inquiries.  The  Free  Press  office  is  near  here,  and  I 
know  some  of  the  people  there." 

He  strode  off  and  was  soon  swallowed  up  in 
the  crowd. 

"  I  think  I  see  a  good  opening,"  said  Gus,  after  a 
moment.  "  I'll  get  out  for  a  minute,  Mrs.  Embury. 
I  must  inquire  where  cars  can  be  parked." 

"  Go  ahead,  Gus,"  said  Eunice;  "  we'll  be  all  right 
here,  but  don't  go  far.  I'll  be  nervous  if  you  do." 

"  No,  ma'am ;  I  won't  go  a  dozen  steps." 

"Extry!  Extry!  All  about  the  Great  Magic! 
Hanlon  the  Wonderful  and  his  Big  Stunt !  Extry !  " 

"  Oh,  get  a  paper,  Eunice,  do,"  urged  Aunt  Abby 
from  the  depths  of  her  fur  coat.  "  Ask  that  boy  for 
one!  I  must  have  it  to  read  after  I  get  home — I 
can't  look  at  it  now,  but  get  it !  Here,  you — Boy — 
I  say,  Boy !  " 

The  newsboy  came  running  to  them  and  flung 
a  paper  into  Eunice's  lap. 

**  There  y'are,  lady,"  he  said,  grinning;  "  there's 


40  RASPBERRY  JAM 

yer  paper !  Gimme  a  nickel,  can't  yer  ?  I  ain't  got 
time  hangin'  on  me  hands !  " 

His  big  black  eyes  stared  at  Eunice,  as  she  made 
no  move  toward  a  purse,  and  he  growled :  "  Hurry 
up  lady ;  I  gotta  sell  some  papers  yet.  Think  nobuddy 
wants  one  but  you?  " 

Eunice  flushed  with  annoyance. 

"  Please  pay  him,  Aunt  Abby,"  she  said,  in  a 
low  voice ;  "  I — haven't  any  money." 

"  Goodness  gracious  me !  Haven't  five  cents ! 
Why,  Eunice,  you  must  have !  " 

"  But  I  haven't,  I  tell  you !  I  can't  see  Alvord, 
and  Gus.is  too  far  to  call  to.  Go  over  there,  boy, 
to  that  chauffeur  with  the  leather  coat — he'll 


pay  you. 

"  No,  thanky  mum !  I've  had  that  dodge  tried 
afore!  Pity  a  grand  dame  like  you  can't  scare  up 
a  nickel!  Want  to  work  a  poor  newsie!  Shame 
for  ya,  lady !  " 

"  Hush  your  impudence,  you  little  wretch !  " 
cried  Aunt  Abby.  "  Here,  Eunice,  help  me  get  my 
purse.  It's  in  my  inside  coat  pocket — under  the 
rug — there,  see  if  you  can  reach  it  now." 

Aunt  Abby  tried  to  extricate  herself  from  the 
motor  rug  that  had  been  tucked  all  too  securely 
about  her,  and  failing  in  that,  endeavored  to  reach 
into  her  pocket  with  her  gloved  hand,  and  became 


A  TRIP  TO  NEWARK  41 

hopelessly  entangled  in  a  mass  of  fur,  chiffon  scarf 
and  eyeglass  chain. 

"  I  can't  get  at  my  purse,  Eunice ;  there's  no  use 
trying,"  she  wailed,  despairingly.  "  Let  us  have  the 
paper,  my  boy,  and  come  back  here  when  the  owner 
of  this  car  comes  and  he'll  give  you  a  quarter." 

"  Yes — he  will !  "  shouted  the  lad,  and  he'll  give 
me  a  di'mon'  pin  an'  a  gold  watch !  I'd  come  back, 
willin'  enough,  but  me  root  lays  the  other  way,  an'  I 
must  be  scootin'  or  I'll  miss  the  hull  show.  Sorry!  " 
The  boy,  who  had  no  trouble  in  finding  customers 
for  his  papers,  picked  up  the  one  he  had  laid  on 
Eunice's  lap  and  made  off. 

"  Never  mind,  Auntie,"  she  said,  "  we'll  get 
another.  It's  too  provoking — but  I  haven't  a  cent, 
and  I  don't  blame  the  boy.  Now,  find  your  purse — 
or,  never  mind;  here  comes  Alvord." 

"Just  fell  over  Morjimer!"  called  out  Hen- 
dricks  as  the  two  men  came  to  the  side  of  the  car. 
"  I  made  him  come  and  speak  to  you  ladies,  though 
I  believe  it's  holding  up  the  whole  performance.  Let 
me  present  the  god  in  the  machine !  " 

"  Not  that,"  said  Mr.  Mortimer,  smiling;  "  only 
a  small  mechanical  part  of  to-day's  doings.  I've  a 
few  minutes  to  spare,  though  but  a  few.  How  do 
you  do,  Miss  Ames  ?  Glad  to  see  you  again.  And 
Mrs.  Embury ;  this  brings  back  childhood  days ! " 


42  RASPBERRY  JAM 

"Tell  me  about  Hanlon,"  begged  Miss  Ames. 
"  Is  he  on  the  square?  " 

"  So  far  as  I  know,  and  I  know  all  there  is  to 
know,  I  think.  I  was  present  at  a  preliminary  test 
this  morning,  and  I'll  tell  you  what  he  did."  Morti- 
mer looked  at  his  watch  and  proceeded  quickly. 
"  In  at  the  Free  Press  office  one  of  the  men  took  a 
piece  of  chalk  and  drew  a  line  from  where  we  were 
to  a  distant  room  of  the  building.  The  line  went 
up  and  down  stairs,  in  and  out  of  various  rooms, 
over  chairs  and  under  desks,  and  finally  wound  up 
in  a  small  closet  in  the  city  editor's  office.  Well — 
and  I  must  jump  away  now — that  wizard,  Hanlon, 
being  securely  blindfolded — I  did  it  myself — fol- 
lowed that  line,  almost  without  deviation,  from  start 
to  finish.  Through  a  building  he  had  never  seen 
before,  and  groping  along  in  complete  darkness." 

"  How  in  the  world  could  he  do  it?  "  Aunt  Abby 
asked,  breathlessly. 

"  The  chap  who  drew  the  line  was  behind  him — 
behind,  mind  you — and  he  willed  him  where  to  go. 
Of  course,  he  did  his  best,  kept  his  mind  on  the  job, 
and  earnestly  used  his  mentality  to  will  Hanlon 
along.  And  did!  There,  that's  all  I  know,  until 
this  afternoon's  stunt  is  pulled  off.  But  what  I've 
told  you,  I  do  know — I  saw  it,  and  I,  for  one,  am 
a  complete  convert  to  telepathy !  " 


A  TRIP  TO  NEWARK  4* 

The  busy  man,  hastily  shaking  hands,  bustled 
away,  and  Hendricks  told  in  glee  how,  through  his 
acquaintance  with  Mortimer,  he  had  secured  a  per- 
mit to  drive  his  car  among  the  front  ones  that  were 
following  the  performance,  which  was  to  begin 
very  soon  now. 

Gus  returned,  and  they  were  about  to  start  when 
Aunt  Abby  set  up  a  plea  for  a  copy  of  the  paper 
that  she  wanted. 

Good-natured  Gus  tried  his  best,  Hendricks  him- 
self made  endeavors,  but  all  in  vain.  The  papers 
were  gone,  the  edition  exhausted.  Nor  could  any 
one  whom  they  asked  be  induced  to  part  with  his 
copy  even  at  a  substantial  premium. 

"  Sorry,  Miss  Ames,"  said  Hendricks,  "  but  we 
can't  seem  to  nail  one.  Perhaps  later  we  can 
get  one.  Now  we  must  be  starting  or  we'll  soon 
lose  our  advantage." 

The  crowd  was  like  a  rolling  sea  by  this  time, 
and  only  the  efficiency  of  the  fine  police  work  kept 
anything  like  order. 

Cautiously  the  motor  car  edged  along  while  the 
daring  pedestrians  seemed  to  scramble  from  beneath 
the  very  wheels. 

And  then  a  cheer  arose  which  proclaimed  the 
presence  of  Hanlon,  the  mysterious  possessor  of 
second  sight,  or  the  marvelous  reader  of  another's 
mind — nobody  knew  exactly  which  he  was. 


CHAPTER  HI 

THE  STUNT 

BOWING  in  response  to  the  mighty  cheer  that 
greeted  his  appearance,  Hanlon  stood,  smiling  at 
the  crowd. 

A  young  fellow  he  seemed  to  be,  slender,  well- 
knit  and  with  a  frank,  winning  face.  But  he  evi- 
dently meant  business,  for  he  turned  at  once  to  Mr 
Mortimer,  and  asked  that  the  test  be  begun. 

A  few  words  from  one  of  the  staff  of  the  news- 
paper that  was  backing  the  enterprise  informed  the 
audience  that  the  day  before  there  had  been  hidden 
in  a  distant  part  of  the  city  a  penknife,  and  that 
only  the  hider  thereof  and  the  Hon.  Mr.  Mortimer 
knew  where  the  hiding-place  was. 

Hanlon  would  now  undertake  to  go,  blindfolded, 
to  the  spot  and  find  the  knife,  although  the  distance, 
as  the  speaker  was  willing  to  disclose,  was  more  than 
a  mile.  The  blindfolding  was  to  be  done  by  a  com- 
mittee of  prominent  citizens  and  was  to  be  looked 
after  so  carefully  that  there  could  be  no  possibility 
of  Hanlon's  seeing  anything. 

After  that,  Hanlon  engaged  to  go  to  the  hiding- 
44 


THE  STUNT  45 

place  and  find  the  knife,  on  condition  that  Mr.  Mor- 
timer would  follow  him,  and  concentrate  all  his  will- 
power on  mentally  guiding  or  rather  directing  Han- 
Ion's  footsteps. 

The  blindfolding,  which  was  done  in  full  view 
of  the  front  ranks  of  spectators,  was  an  elaborate 
proceeding.  A  heavy  silk  handkerchief  had  been 
prepared  by  folding  it  in  eight  thicknesses,  which 
were  then  stitched  to  prevent  slipping.  This 
bandage  was  four  inches  wide  and  completely  cov- 
ered the  man's  eyes,  but  as  an  additional  precaution 
pads  of  cotton  wool  were  first  placed  over  his  closed 
eyelids  and  the  bandage  then  tied  over  them. 

Thus,  completely  blindfolded,  Hanlon  spoke 
earnestly  to  Mr.  Mortimer. 

"  I  must  ask  of  you,  sir,  that  you  do  your  very 
best  to  guide  me  aright.  The  success  of  this  enter- 
prise depends  quite  as  much  on  you  as  on  myself. 
I  am  merely  receptive,  you  are  the  acting  agent.  I 
strive  to  keep  my  mind  a  blank,  that  your  will  may 
sway  it  in  the  right  direction.  I  trust  you,  and  I 
beg  that  you  will  keep  your  whole  mind  on  the  quest. 
Think  of  the  hidden  article,  keep  it  in  your  mind, 
look  toward  it.  Follow  me — not  too  closely — and 
mentally  push  me  in  the  way  I  should  go.  If  I  go 
wrong,  will  me  back  to  the  right  path,  but  in  no  case 
get  near  enough  to  touch  me,  and,  of  course,  do  not 


46  RASPBERRY  JAM 

speak  to  me.  This  test  is  entirely  that  of  the  influ- 
ence of  your  will  upon  mine.  Call  it  telepathy, 
thought-transference,  will-power  —  anything  you 
choose,  but  grant  my  request  that  you  devote  all  your 
attention  to  the  work  in  hand.  If  your  mind  wan- 
ders, mine  will;  if  your  mind  goes  straight  to  the 
goal,  mine  will  also  be  impelled  there." 

With  a  slight  bow,  Hanlon  stood  motionless, 
ready  to  start. 

The  preliminaries  had  taken  place  on  a  platform, 
hastily  built  for  the  occasion,  and  now,  with  Morti- 
mer behind  him,  Hanlon  started  down  the  steps  to 
the  street. 

Reaching  the  pavement,  he  stood  motionless  for 
a  few  seconds  and  then,  turning,  walked  toward 
Broad  Street.  Reaching  it,  he  turned  South,  and 
walked  along,  at  a  fairly  rapid  gait.  At  the  cross- 
ings he  paused  momentarily,  sometimes  as  if  un- 
certain which  way  to  go,  and  again  evidently 
assured  of  his  direction. 

The  crowd  surged  about  him,  now  impeding  his 
progress  and  now  almost  pushing  him  along.  He 
gave  them  no  heed,  but  made  his  way  here  or  there 
as  he  chose  and  Mortimer  followed,  always  a  few 
steps  behind,  but  near  enough  to  see  that  Hanlon 
was  in  no  way  interfered  with  by  the  throng. 

Indeed,  so  anxious  were  the  onlookers  that  fair 


THE  STUNT  *7 

play  should  obtain,  the  ones  nearest  to  the  performer 
served  as  a  cordon  of  guards  to  keep  his  immediate 
surroundings  cleared. 

Hanlon's  actions,  in  all  respects,  were  those  that 
might  be  expected  from  a  blindfolded  man.  He 
groped,  sometimes  with  outstretched  hands,  again 
with  arms  folded  or  hands  clasped  and  extended, 
but  always  with  an  expression,  so  far  as  his  face 
could  be  seen,  of  earnest,  concentrated  endeavor  to 
go  the  right  way.  Now  and  then  he  would  half 
turn,  as  if  impelled  in  one  direction,  and  then  hesi- 
tate, turn  and  march  off  the  other  way.  One  time,  in- 
deed, he  went  nearly  half  a  block  in  a  wrong  street. 
Then  he  paused,  groped,  stumbled  a  little,  and  grad- 
ually returned  to  the  vicinity  of  Mortimer,  who  had 
stood  still  at  the  corner.  Apparently,  Hanlon  had 
jio  idea  of  his  detour,  for  he  went  on  in  the  right 
direction,  and  Mortimer,  who  was  oblivious  to  all 
but  his  mission,  followed  interestedly. 

One  time  Hanlon  spoke  to  him.  "  You  are  a 
fine  '  guide,'  sir,"  he  said.  "  I  seem  impelled  stead- 
ily, not  in  sudden  thought  waves,  and  I  find  my  mind 
responds  well  to  your  will.  If  you  will  be  so  good 
as  to  keep  the  crowd  away  from  us  a  little  more 
carefully.  I  don't  want  you  any  nearer  me,  but  if 
too  many  people  are  between  us,  it  interferes  some- 
what with  the  transference  of  your  guiding  thought." 


48  RASPBERRY  JAM 

"Do  you  want  to  hear  my  footsteps?"  asked 
Mortimer,  thoughtfully. 

"  That  doesn't  matter,"  Hanlon  smiled.  "  You 
are  to  follow  me,  sir,  even  if  I  go  wrong.  If  I 
waited  to  hear  you,  that  would  be  no  test  at  all. 
Simply  will  me,  and  then  follow,  whether  I  am  on 
the  right  track  or  not.  But  keep  your  mind  on  the 
goal,  and  look  toward  it — if  convenient.  Of  course, 
the  looking  toward  it  is  no  help  to  me,  save  as  it 
serves  to  fix  your  mind  more  firmly  on  the  matter." 

And  then  Hanlon  seemed  to  go  more  carefully. 
He  stepped  slowly,  feeling  with  his  foot  for  any 
curbstone,  grating  or  irregularity  in  the  pavement. 
And  yet  he  failed  in  one  instance  to  feel  the  edge  of 
an  open  coalhole,  and  his  right  leg  slipped  down 
into  it 

Some  of  the  nearby  watchers  grabbed  him,  and 
pulled  him  back  without  his  sustaining  injury,  for 
which  he  thanked  them  briefly  and  continued. 

Several  times  some  sceptical  bystanders  put 
themselves  deliberately  in  front  of  the  blindfolded 
man,  to  see  if  he  would  turn  out  for  them. 

On  the  contrary,  Hanlon  bumped  into  them,  so 
innocently,  that  they  were  nearly  thrown  down. 

He  smiled  good-naturedly,  and  said,  "  All  right, 
fellows;  I  don't  mind,  if  you  don't.  And  I  don't 


THE  STUNT  49 

blame  you  for  wanting  to  make  sure  that  I'm  not 
playing  'possum !  " 

Of  course,  Hanlon  carried  no  light  cane,  such  as 
blind  men  use,  to  tap  on  the  stones,  so  he  helped 
himself  by  feeling  the  way  along  shop  windows  and 
area  gates,  judging  thus,  when  he  was  nearing  a 
cross  street,  and  sometimes  hesitating  whether  to 
cross  or  turn  the  corner. 

After  a  half-hour  of  this  sort  of  progress  he 
found  himself  in  a  vacant  lot  near  the  edge  of  the 
city.  There  had  been  a  building  in  the  middle  of  the 
plot  of  ground,  but  it  had  been  burned  down  and 
only  a  pile  of  blackened  debris  marked  the  place. 

Reaching  the  corner  of  the  streets  that  bounded 
the  lot,  Hanlon  made  no  pause,  but  started  on  a 
straight  diagonal  toward  the  center  of  the  lot.  He 
stepped  into  a  tangle  of  charred  logs  and  ashes,  but 
forged  ahead  unhesitatingly,  though  slowly,  and 
picked  his  way  by  thrusting  the  toe  of  his  shoe  ten- 
tatively forward., 

Mortimer,  about  three  paces  behind  him,  fol- 
lowed, unheeding  the  rubbish  he  stalked  through, 
and  very  evidently  absorbed  in  doing  his  part  to 
its  conclusion. 

For  the  knife  was  hidden  in  the  very  center  of 
the  burned-down  house.  A  bit  of  flooring  was  left, 

4 


50  RASPBERRY  JAM 

on  which  Hanlon  climbed,  Mortimer  getting  up  on 
it  also. 

Hanlon  walked  slowly  round  in  a  circle,  the 
floor  being  several  yards  square.  Mortimer  stepped 
behind  him,  gravely  looking  toward  the  hiding- 
place,  and  exerting  all  his  mentality  toward  "  guid- 
ing "  Hanlon  to  it.  At  no  time  was  he  nearer  than 
two  feet,  though  once,  making  a  quick  turn,  Hanlon 
nearly  bumped  into  him. 

Finally,  Hanlon,  poking  about  in  the  ashes  with 
his  right  foot,  kicked  against  something.  He  picked 
it  up  and  it  proved  to  be  only  a  bit  of  wire.  But  the 
next  moment  he  struck  something  else,  and,  stoop- 
ing, brought  up  triumphantly  the  hidden  penknife, 
which  he  waved  exultantly  at  the  crowd. 

Loud  and  long  they  cheered  him.  Cordially 
Mr.  Mortimer  grasped  the  hands  of  the  hero, 
and  it  was  with  some  difficulty  that  Alvord  Hen- 
dricks  restrained  Miss  Abby  Ames  from  getting  out 
of  his  car  and  rushing  to  congratulate  the  success- 
ful treasure-seeker. 

"  Now,"  she  exclaimed;  "  no  one  can  ever  doubt 
the  fact  of  telepathy  after  this !  How  else  could  that 
young  man  have  done  what  he  has  done.  Answer 
me  that!" 

"  It's  all  a  fake,"  asserted  Hendricks,  "  but  I'm 
ready  to  acknowledge  I  don't  know  hem;  it's  done. 


THE  STUNT  51 

It's  the  best  game  I  ever  saw  put  up,  and  I'd  like 
to  know  how  he  does  it." 

"  Seems  to  me,"  put  in  Eunice,  a  little  dryly, 
"  one  oughtn't  to  insist  that  it  is  a  fake  unless  one 
has  some  notion,  at  least,  of  how  it  could  be  done. 
If  the  man  could  see — could  even  peep — there  might 
be  a  chance  for  trickery.  But  with  those  thick  cot- 
ton pads  on  his  eyes  and  then  covered  with  that  big, 
thick,  folded  silk  handkerchief — it's  really  a  muf- 
fler— there's  no  chance  for  his  faking." 

"And  if  he  could  see — if  his  eyes  were  wide 
open — how  would  he  know  where  to  go  ?"  demanded 
Aunt  Abby.  "  That  blindfolding  is  only  so  he  can't 
see  Mr.  Mortimer's  face,  if  he  turns  round,  and 
judge  from  its  expression.  And  also,  I  daresay,  to 
help  him  concentrate  his  mind,  and  not  be  diverted 
or  distracted  by  the  crowd  and  all." 

"  All  the  same,  I  don't  believe  in  it,"  and  Hen- 
dricks  shook  his  head  obstinately.  "  There  is  no 
such  thing  as  telepathy,  and  this  *  willing ' '  business 
has  all  been  exposed  years  ago." 

"  I  remember,"  and  Aunt  Abby  nodded ;  "  you 
mean  that  Bishop  man  and  all  that.  But  this  affair 
it  quite  different.  You  don't  believe  Mr.  Mortimer 
was  a  party  to  deceit,  do  you  ?  " 

"  No,  I  don't.  Mortimer  is  a  Judge  and  a  most 
honest  man,  besides.  He  wouldn't  stoop  to  trickery 


52  RASPBERRY  JAM 

in  a  thing  of  this  sort.  But  he  has  been  him- 
self deceived." 

"Then  how  was  it  done?"  cried  Eunice,  tri- 
umphantly; "  for  no  one  else  knew  where  the  knife 
was  hidden,  except  that  newspaper  man  who  hid  it, 
and  he  was  sincere,  of  course,  or  there' d  be  no  sense 
in  the  whole  thing." 

"  I  know  that.  Yes,  the  newspaper  people  were 
hoodwinked,  too." 

"Then  what  happened?"  Eunice  persisted. 
"  There's  no  possible  explanation  but  telepathy.  Is 
there,  now  ?  " 

"  I  don't  know  of  any,"  Hendricks  was  forced 
to  admit.  "  After  the  excitement  blows  over  a  lit- 
tle, I'll  try  to  speak  with  Mortimer  again.  I'd  like 
to  know  his  opinion." 

They  sat  in  the  car,  looking  at  the  hilarious 
crowds  of  people,  most  of  whom  seemed  imbued 
with  a  wild  desire  to  get  to  the  hero  of  the  hour 
and  demand  his  secret. 

"  There's  a  man  who  looks  like  Tom  Meredith," 
said  Eunice,  suddenly.  "  By  the  way,  Alvord,  where 
do  the  Merediths  stand  in  the  matter  of  the 
club  election?  " 

"Which  of  them?" 

"  Either — or  both.  I  suppose  they're  on  your 
side — they  never  seemed  to  like  Sanford  much." 


THE  STUNT  53 

"  My  dear  Eunice,  don't  be  so  narrow-minded. 
Club  men  don't  vote  one  way  or  another  because  of 
a  personal  like  or  dislike — they  consider  the  good 
of  the  club — the  welfare  of  the  organization." 

"  Well,  then,  which  side  do  they  favor  as  being 
for  the  good  of  the  club?  " 

"  Ask  Sanford." 

"  Oh — if  you  don't  want  to  tell  me " 

Eunice  looked  provokingly  pretty  and  her 
piquant  face  showed  a  petulant  expression  as  she 
turned  it  to  Hendricks. 

"  Smile  on  me  again  and  I'll  tell  you  anything 
you  want  to  know — if  I  know  it  myself." 

A  dazzling  smile  answered  this  speech,  and  Hen- 
dricks' gaze  softened  as  he  watched  her. 

"  But  you'll  have  to  ask  me  something  else,  for, 
alas — the  brothers  Meredith  haven't  made  a  confi- 
dant of  me." 

"  Story-teller  \  "  and  Eunice's  dark  eyes  assumed 
the  look  of  a  roguish  little  girl.  "  You  can't  fool 
me,  Alvord ;  now  tell  me,  and  I'll  invite  you  in  to 
tea  when  we  get  home." 

"  I'm  going  in,  anyway." 

"  Not  unless  you  tell  me  what  I  ask.  Why  won't 
you?  Is  it  a  secret?  Pooh !  I'd  just  as  lief  ask  Mr. 
Tom  Meredith  myself,  if  I  could  see  him.  Never 


5*  RASPBERRY  JAM 

mind,  don't  tdl  me,  if  you  don't  want  to.  You're 
not  my  only  confidential  friend;  there  are  others." 

"  Who  are  they,  Euny  ?  I  flattered  myself  I  was 
your  only  really,  truly  intimate  friend — not  even 
excepting  yor  husband !  " 

"Oh,  what  a  naughty  speech!  If  you  weren't 
Sanford's  very  good  friend,  I'd  never  speak  to 
you  again ! " 

"  I  don't  see  how  you  two  men  can  be  friends," 
put  in  Aunt  Abby,  "when  you're  both  after  that 
same  presidency." 

"  That's  the  answer !  "  Eunice  laughed.  "  Al- 
vord  is  San's  greatest  friend,  because  it's  going  to 
be  an  easy  thing  for  Sanford  to  win  the  election 
from  him!  If  there  were  a  more  popular  candidate 
in  Alvord's  place,  or  a  less  popular  one  in  Sanford's 
place,  it  wouldn't  be  such  a  walkover !  " 

"You — you — "  Hendricks  looked  at  Eunice  in 
speechless  admiration.  The  dancing  eyes  were  im- 
pudent, the  red  lips  curved  scornfully,  and  she  made 
a  daring  little  moue  at  him  as  she  readjusted  her 
black  lace  veil  so  that  a  heavy  bit  of  its  pattern  cov- 
ered her  mouth. 

"  What  do  you  do  that  for?  Move  that  darned 
flower,  so  I  can  see  you  talk !  " 

She  laughed  then,  and  wrinkled  her  straight  lit- 
tle nose  until  the  veil  billowed  mischievously. 


THE  STUNT  55 

"  I  wish  you'd  take  that  thing  off,"  Hendricks 
said,  irritatedly ;  "  it  annoys  me." 

"And  pray,  sir,  who  are  you,  that  I  should 
shield  you  from  annoyance  ?  My  veil  is  a  necessary 
part  of  my  costume." 

"  Necessary  nothing !    Take  it  off,  I  tell  you !  " 

"  Merry  Christmas ! "  and  Eunice  gave  him 
such  a  scornful  shrug  of  her  furred  shoulders 
that  Hendricks  laughed  out,  in  sheer  enjoyment  of 
her  audacity. 

"  Tell  me  about  the  Merediths,  and  I'll  take  off 
the  offending  veil,"  she  urged,  looking  at  him 
very  coaxingly. 

"All  right;  off  with  it." 

Slowly,  and  with  careful  deliberation,  Eunice 
unpinned  her  veil,  took  it  off  and  folded  it  in  a  small, 
compact  parcel.  This  she  put  in  her  handbag,  and 
then,  with  an  adorable  smile,  said :  "  Now !  " 

"  You  beautiful  idiot,"  and  Hendricks  devoured 
her  with  his  eyes.  "  All  I  can  tell  you  about  the 
Merediths  is,  that  I  don't  know  anything  about  their 
stand  on  the  election." 

"  What  do  you  guess,  assume,  surmise,  imagine 
or  predict?"  she  teased,  still  fascinating  him  with 
her  magnetic  charm. 

"  Well,  I  think  this :  they're  a  little  too  old-timey 
t«  take  up  all  my  projects.  But,  on  the  other  hand, 


56  RASPBERRY  JAM 

they're  far  from  willing  to  subscribe  to  your  hus- 
band's views.  They  do  not  approve  of  the  Sunday- 
school  atmosphere  he  wants  to  bring  about,  nor  do 
they  shut  their  eyes  to  the  fact  that  the  younger 
element  must  be  considered." 

"  Younger  element !    Do  you  call  Sanford  old  ?  " 

"  No ;  he's  only  twenty-eight  this  minute.  But 
there  are  a  lot  of  new  members  even  younger  than 
that — strange  as  it  may  seem!  These  boys  want 
gayety — yea,  even  unto  the  scorned  movies  and  the 
hilarious  prize-fights — and  as  they  are  scions  of  the 
wealthy  and  aristocratic  families  of  our  little  old 
town,  I  think  we  should  consider  them.  And,  since 
you  insist  on  knowing,  it  is  my  firm  belief,  convic- 
tion and — I'm  willing  to  add — my  hope  that  the 
great  and  influential  Meredith  brothers  agree  with 
me !  So  there  now,  Madam  Sanford  Embury !  " 

"  Thank  you,  Alvord ;  you're  clear,  at  least.  Do 
you  think  I  could  persuade  them  to  come  over  to 
Sanford's  side?" 

"  I  think  you  could  persuade  the  statue  of  Jupiter 
Ammon  to  climb  down  from  his  pedestal  and  take 
you  to  Coney  Island,  if  you  looked  at  him  like  that ! 
But  I  also  think  that  friend  husband  will  not  con- 
sent to  your  electioneering  for  him.  It  isn't  done, 
my  dear  Eunice." 


THE  STUNT  57 

"  As  if  I  cared  what  is  '  done '  and  what  isn't, 
if  I  want  to  help  Sanford." 

"  Go  ahead,  then,  fair  lady ;  but  remember  that 
Sanford  Embury  stands  for  the  conservative  ele- 
ment in  our  club,  and  anything  you  might  try  to  do 
by  virtue  of  your  blandishments  or  fascinations 
would  be  frowned  upon  and  would  react  against 
your  cause  instead  of  for  it.  If  I  might  suggest,  my 
supporters,  the  younger  set,  the — well — the  gayer 
set,  would  more  readily  respond  to  such  a  plan. 
Why  don't  you  electioneer  for  me?  " 

Eunice  disdained  to  reply,  and  Aunt  Abby  broke 
into  the  discussion  by  exclaiming :  "  Oh,  Alvord, 
here  comes  Mr.  Mortimer,  and  he  has  Mr.  Hanlon 
with  him !  " 

Sure  enough  the  two  heroes  of  the  day  were 
walking  toward  the  Hendricks  car,  which,  still 
standing  near  the  scene  of  Hanlon's  triumph, 
awaited  a  good  chance  for  a  getaway. 

"  I  wonder  if  you  ladies  wouldn't  like  to  meet 
this  marvel,"  began  Mr.  Mortimer,  genially,  and 
Aunt  Abby's  delight  was  convincing,  indeed. 

Eunice,  too,  greeted  Mr.  Hanlon  cordially,  and 
Hendricks  held  out  a  welcoming  hand. 

"  Tell  us  how  you  did  it,"  he  said,  smiling  into 
the  intelligent  face  of  the  mysterious  "mind-reader." 

"  You  saw,"  he  returned,  simply,  with  a  slight 


58  RASPBERRY  JAM 

gesture  of  out-turned  palms,  as  if  to  disavow 
any  secrets. 

"  Yes,  I  saw,"  said  Hendricks,  "  but  with  me, 
seeing  is  not  believing." 

"  Don't  listen,  Hanlon,"  Mr.  Mortimer  said, 
smiling  a  little  resentfully.  "  That  sort  of  talk 
would  go  before  the  test,  but  not  now.  What  do 
you  mean,  Hendricks,  by  not  believing?  Do  you 
suspect  me  of  complicity  ?  " 

"  I  do  not,  Mortimer.  I  believe  you  have  been 
taken  in  with  the  rest,  by  a  very  clever  trick."  He 
looked  sharply  at  Hanlon,  who  returned  his  gaze 
serenely.  "  I  believe  this  young  man  is  unusually 
apt  as  a  trickster,  and  I  believe  he  hoodwinked  the 
whole  community.  The  fact  that  I  cannot  compre- 
hend, or  even  guess  how  he  did  it,  in  no  way  dis- 
turbs my  conviction  that  he  did  do  it  by  trickery. 
I  will  change  this  opinion,  however,  if  Mr.  Hanlon 
will  look  me  in  the  eye  and  assure  me,  on  his  honor, 
that  he  found  the  penknife  by  no  other  means  or 
with  no  other  influence  to  guide  him  than  Mr.  Mor- 
timer's will-power." 

"  I  am  not  on  trial,"  he  said.  "  I  am  not  called 
upon  to  prove  or  disprove  anything.  I  promised  to 
perform  a  feat  and  I  have  done  so.  It  was  not 
nominated  in  the  bond  that  I  should  defend  my 
honor  by  asseverations." 


THE  STUNT  59 

"  Begging  the  question,"  laughed  Hendricks, 
but  Mr.  Mortimer  said :  "  Not  at  all.  Hanlon  is 
right.  If  he  has  any  secret  means  of  guidance,  it 
is  up  to  us  to  discover  it.  But  I  hold  that  he  cannot 
have,  or  it  would  have  been  discovered  by  some  of 
the  eager  observers.  We  had  thousands  looking  on 
to-day.  There  must  have  been  some  one  clever 
enough  to  suspect  the  deceit,  if  deceit  there  were." 

"  Thank  you,  Mr.  Mortimer,"  Hanlon  spoke 
quietly.  "  I  made  no  mystery  of  my  performance ; 
I  had  no  confederate,  no  paraphernalia.  All  there 
was  to  see  could  be  seen  by  all.  You  willed  me;  I 
followed  your  will.  That  is  all." 

The  simple  manner  and  pleasant  demeanor  of 
the  young  man  greatly  attracted  Eunice,  who  smiled 
at  him  kindly. 

"  I  came  here  very  sceptical,"  she  admitted ; 
"  and  even  now  I  can't  feel  entirely  convinced " 

"Well,  I  can!"  declared  Aunt  Abby.  "I  am 
willing  to  own  it,  too.  These  people  who  really  be- 
lieve in  your  sincerity,  Mr.  Hanlon,  and  refuse  to 
confess  it,  make  me  mad!  I  wish  you'd  give  an 
exhibition  in  New  York." 

"  I'm  sorry  to  disappoint  you,  madam,  but  this 
is  my  last  performance." 

"  Good  gracious,  why  ?  "  Aunt  Abby  looked 
curiously  at  him. 


00  RASPBERRY  JAM 

"  I  have  good  reasons,"  Hanlon  smiled.  "  You 
may  learn  them  later,  if  you  care  to." 

"  I  do.    How  can  I  learn  them?  " 

"  Read  the  Newark  Free  Press  next  Monday." 

"  Oh ! "  and  Eunice  had  an  inspiration — a 
premonition  of  the  truth.  "  May  I  speak  to  you 
alone  a  minute,  Mr.  Hanlon?  " 

She  got  out  of  the  car  and  walked  a  few  steps 
with  the  young  man,  who  politely  accompanied  her. 

They  paused  a  short  distance  away,  and  held  a 
brief  but  animated  conversation.  Eunice  laughed 
gleefully,  and  it  was  plain  to  be  seen  her  charming 
smiles  played  havoc  with  Hanlon' s  reserved  de- 
meanor. Soon  he  was  willingly  agreeing  to  some- 
thing she  was  proposing  and  finally  they  shook 
hands  on  it. 

They  returned  to  the  car;  he  assisted  Eunice  in, 
and  then  he  told  Mr.  Mortimer  they  had  stayed  as 
long  as  was  permissible  and  were  being  eagerly 
called  back  to  the  committee  in  charge  of  the 
day's  programme. 

"  That's  so,"  said  Mortimer.  "  I  begged  off  for 
a  few  minutes.  Good-by,  all."  He  raised  his  hat 
and  hurried  away  after  Hanlon. 

"Well,"  said  Hendricks  as  they  started  home- 
ward, "  what  did  you  persuade  him  to  do,  Eunice? 
Give  a  parlor  exhibition  for  you  ?  " 


THE  STUNT  Of 

"  The  boy  guessed  nearly  right  the  very  first 
time !  "  cried  Eunice,  gleefully ;  "  it  was  all  a  fake, 
and  he's  coming  to  our  house  Sunday  afternoon  to 
tell  how  he  did  it.  It's  all  coming  out  in  the  paper 
on  Monday." 

"  My  good  land !  "  and  Aunt  Abby  sank  back  in 
her  seat,  utterly  disgusted. 


CHAPTER  IV 


"  AND  that's  my  last  word  on  the  subject." 

Embury  lighted  one  cigarette  from  the  stub  of 
another,  and  deposited  the  stub  in  the  ash-tray  at 
his  elbow.  It  was  Sunday  afternoon,  and  the  pe- 
culiar relaxedness  of  that  day  of  rest  and  gladness 
had  somewhat  worn  on  the  nerves  of  both  Sanford 
and  Eunice. 

Aunt  Abby  was  napping,  and  it  was  too  early 
yet  to  look  for  their  expected  visitor,  Hanlon. 

Eunice  had  been  once  again  endeavoring  to  per- 
suade her  husband  to  give  her  an  allowance — a 
stated  sum,  however  small,  that  she  might  depend 
upon  regularly.  The  Emburys  fulfilled  every  re- 
quirement of  the  condition  known  as  "  happily  mar- 
ried "  save  for  this  one  item.  They  were  congenial, 
affectionate,  good-natured,  and  quite  ready  to  make 
allowances  for  each  other's  idiosyncrasies  or  whims. 

With  this  one  exception.  Eunice  found  it  intol- 
erable to  be  cramped  and  pinched  for  small  amounts 
of  ready  cash,  when  her  husband  was  a  rich  man. 
Nor  was  Embury  mean,  or  even  economical  of  na- 
ture. He  was  more  than  willing  that  his  wife  should 
62 


THE  EMBURYS  63 

have  all  the  extravagant  luxuries  she  desired.  He 
was  entirely  ready  to  pay  any  and  all  bills  that  she 
might  contract.  Never  had  he  chided  her  for  buy- 
ing expensive  or  unnecessary  finery — even  more,  he 
Jiad  always  admired  her  taste  and  shown  pleasure  at 
her  purchases.  He  was  proud  of  her  beauty  and 
willing  it  should  be  adorned.  He  was  proud  of  her 
grace  and  charm  and  willing  that  the  household  ap- 
pointments should  provide  an  appropriate  setting  for 
her  hospitality.  They  were  both  fond  of  entertain- 
ing and  never  was  there  a  word  of  protest  from  him 
as  to  the  amounts  charged  by  florists  and  caterers. 

And  yet,  by  reason  of  some  crank,  crotchet  or 
perverse  notion,  Embury  was  unwilling  to  give  his 
wife  what  is  known  as  "  pin  money." 

"  Buy  your  pins  at  the  best  jewelers',"  he  would 
laugh,  "  and  send  the  bills  to  me;  buy  your  hats  and 
gowns  from  the  Frenchiest  shops — you  can  get 
credit  anywhere  on  my  name — Good  Lord!  Tiger, 
what  more  can  a  woman  want  ?  " 

Nor  would  he  agree  to  her  oft-repeated  explana- 
tions that  there  were  a  thousand  and  one  occasions 
when  some  money  was  an  absolute  necessity.  Or,  if 
persuaded,  he  gave  her  a  small  amount  and  expected 
it  to  last  indefinitely. 

It  is  difficult  to  know  just  what  was  the  reason 
for  this  attitude.  San  ford  Embury  was  not  a  miser. 


64  RASPBERRY  JAM 

He  was  not  penurious  or  stingy.  He  subscribed  lib- 
erally to  charities,  many  of  them  unknown  to  the 
public,  or  even  to  his  wife,  but  some  trick  of  nature, 
some  twist  in  his  brain,  made  this  peculiarity  of  his 
persistent  and  ineradicable. 

Now,  Eunice  Embury  was  possessed  of  a  quick, 
sometimes  ungovernable  temper.  It  was  because  of 
this  that  her  husband  called  her  Tiger.  And  also, 
as  he  declared,  because  her  beautiful,  lithe  grace  was 
suggestive  of  "  the  fearful  symmetry "  of  the 
forest  tribe. 

She  had  tried  honestly  to  control  her  quick  anger, 
but  it  would  now  and  then  assert  itself  in  spite  of 
her,  and  Embury  delighted  to  liken  her  to  Katherine, 
and  declared  that  he  must  tame  her  as  Petruchio 
tamed  his  shrew. 

This  annoyed  Eunice  far  more  than  she  let  him 
know,  for  she  was  well  aware  that  if  he  thought  it 
teased  her,  he  would  more  frequently  try  Petru- 
chio's  methods. 

So,  when  she  flew  into  a  rage,  and  he  countered 
with  a  fiercer  anger,  she  knew  he  was  assuming  it 
purposely,  and  she  usually  quieted  down,  as  the  bet- 
ter part  of  valor. 

On  this  particular  occasion  Eunice  had  taken 
advantage  of  a  quiet,  pleasant  tete-a-tete  to  bring 
up  the  subject. 


THE  EMBURYS  65 

Embury  had  heard  her  pleading,  not  unkindly, 
but  with  a  bored  air,  and  had  finally  remarked,  as 
she  paused  in  her  arguments,  "  I  refuse,  Eunice,  to 
give  you  a  stated  allowance.  If  you  haven't  suf- 
ficient confidence  in  your  husband's  generosity  to 
trust  him  to  give  you  all  you  want  or  need,  and  even 
more  than  that,  then  you  are  ungrateful  for  what  I 
have  given  you.  And  that's  my  last  word  on 
the  subject." 

The  rank  injustice  of  this  was  like  iron  enter- 
ing her  soul.  She  knew  his  speech  was  illogical, 
unfair  and  even  absurd,  but  she  knew  no  words  of 
hers  could  make  him  see  it  so. 

And  in  utter  exasperation  at  her  own  impotence, 
she  flung  her  self-control  to  the  winds,  and  let  go  of 
her  temper. 

"  Well,  it  isn't  my  last  word  on  the  subject ! " 
she  cried.  "  I  have  something  further  to  say !  " 

"  That  is  your  woman's  privilege,"  and  Embury 
smiled  irritatingly  at  her. 

"  Not  only  my  privilege,  but  my  duty !  I  owe  it 
to  my  self-respect,  to  my  social  position,  to  my  stand- 
ing as  your  wife — the  wife  of  a  prominent  man  of 
affairs — to  have  at  my  command  a  sum  of  ready 
money  when  I  need  it.  You  know  perfectly  well, 
I  do  not  want  it  for  anything  wrong  or  for  anything 
that  I  want  to  keep  secret  from  you.  You  know  I 
5 


66  RASPBERRY  JAM 

have  never  had  a  secret  from  you  nor  do  I  wish  to 
have!  I  simply  want  to  do  as  other  women  do — 
even  the  poorest,  the  meanest  man,  will  give  his 
wife  an  allowance,  a  little  something  that  is  abso- 
lutely her  own.  Why,  most  of  the  women  of  my 
set  have  a  checking  account  at  the  bank — they  all 
have  a  personal  allowance !  " 

"  So  ? "  Embury  took  up  another  cigarette. 
"You  may  remember,  Eunice,  I  have  spoken  my 
last  word  on  the  subject." 

"  And  you  may  remember  that  I  have  not !  But 
I  will — and  right  now.  And  it  is  simply  that  since 
you  refuse  me  the  pleasure  and  convenience  of  some 
money  for  every-day  use,  I  shall  get  some  from 
another  source." 

Embury's  eyes  narrowed,  and  he  surveyed  his 
wife  with  a  calm  scrutiny.  Then  he  smiled. 

"  Stenography  and  typewriting?  "  he  said;  "  or 
shall  you  take  in  plain  sewing  ?  Cut  out  the  threats, 
Eunice;  they  won't  get  you  anywhere!  " 

"  They'll  get  me  where  I  want  to  arrive !  Don't 
say  I  didn't  warn  you — I  repeat,  I  shall  get  money 
for  my  personal  use,  and  you  will  have  no  right  to 
criticize  my  methods,  since  you  refuse  me  a  paltry 
sum  by  way  of  allowance." 

Eunice  was  standing,  her  two  hands  tightly 
grasping  a  chair-back  as  she  looked  angrily  at  Em- 


THE  EMBURYS  67 

bury,  who  still  seated  lazily,  blew  smoke  rings 
toward  her.  She  was  magnificent  in  her  anger,  her 
cheeks  burned  crimson,  her  dark  eyes  had  an  omi- 
nous gleam  in  them  arid  her  curved  lips  straightened 
into  a  determined  line  of  scarlet.  Her  muscles  were 
strained  and  tense,  her  breath  came  quickly,  yet  she 
had  full  control  of  herself  and  her  pose  was  that  of 
a  crouching,  waiting  tiger  rather  than  a  furious  one. 

Embury  was  full  of  admiration  at  the  beautiful 
picture  she  made,  but  pursuant  of  his  inexorable 
plan,  he  rose  to  "  tame  "  her. 

"  '  Tiger,  tiger,  burning  bright,'  "  he  quoted, 
"  you  must  take  back  that  speech — it  is  neither 
pretty  nor  tactful " 

"  I  have  no  wish  to  be  tactful!  Why  should  I? 
I  am  not  trying  to  coax  or  cajole  you!  You  refuse 
my  request — you  have  repeatedly  refused  me — now, 
I  am  at  the  end  of  my  patience,  and  I  shall  take 
matters  into  my  own  hands !  " 

"  Lovely  hands !  "  he  murmured,  taking  them  in 
his  own.  "  You  have  unusually  pretty  hands, 
Eunice;  it  would  be  a  pity  to  use  them  to  earn 
money " 

"  Yet  that  is  my  intention.  I  shall  get  money 
by  the  work  of  these  hands.  It  will  be  in  a  way  that 
you  will  not  approve,  but  you  have  forfeited  your 
right  to  approve  or  disapprove " 


68  RASPBERRY  JAM 

"  That  I  have  not!  I  am  your  husband — you 
have  promised  to  obey  me " 

"A  mere  form  of  words — it  meant  nothing!  " 

"Our  marriage  ceremony  meant  nothing?" 

"  If  it  did,  remember  that  you  endowed  me  with 
all  your  worldly  goods " 

"  And  I  give  them  to  you,  too !  Do  you  know 
that  nine-tenths  of  my  yearly  expenditures  are  for 
your  pleasure  and  benefit !  /  enjoy  our  home,  too, 
but  it  would  not  be  the  elaborate,  luxurious  estab- 
lishment that  it  is,  but  that  it  suits  your  taste  to  have 
it  so !  And  then,  you  whine  and  fret  for  what  you 
yourself  call  a  paltry  matter !  Ingrate !  " 

"  Don't  you  dare  call  me  ingrate !  I  owe  you  no 
gratitude !  Do  you  give  me  this  home  as  a  charity  ? 
As  a  gift,  even !  It  is  my  right !  And  it  is  also  my 
right  to  have  a  bank  account  of  my  own!  It  is  my 
right  to  uphold  my  head  among  other  women  who 
laugh  at  me,  who  ridicule  me,  because,  with  all  your 
wealth,  I  have  no  purse  of  my  own!  I  will  not 
stand  it!  I  rebel!  And  you  may  rest  assured 
things  are  going  to  be  different  hereafter.  I  will 
get  money " 

"  You  shall  not !  "  Embury  grasped  the  wrists 
of  the  hands  he  still  held,  and  his  face  was  fiercely 
frowning.  "  You  are  my  wife,  and  whatever  you 
may  or  may  not  owe  to  me,  you  owe  it  to  our  posi- 


THE  EMBURYS  69 

tion,  to  our  standing  in  the  community  to  do  nothing 
beneath  your  dignity  or  mine!  " 

"  You  care  nothing  for  my  dignity,  for  my  ap- 
pearance before  other  women,  so  why  should  I  con- 
sider your  dignity?  You  force  me  to  it,  and  it  is 
therefore  your  fault  if  I 

"  What  is  it  you  propose  to  do  ?  How  are  you 
going  to  get  this  absurd  paltry  sum  you  are  making 
such  a  fuss  about  ?  " 

"  That  I  decline  to  tell  you " 

"  Don't  you  dare  to  do  needlework  or  anything 
that  would  make  me  look  foolish.  I  forbid  it !" 

"  And  I  scorn  your  forbidding !  Make  you  look 
foolish,  indeed!  When  you  make  me  look  foolish 
every  day  of  my  life,  because  I  can't  do  as  other 
women  do — can't  have  what  other  wives  have " 

"  Now,  now,  Tiger,  don't  make  such  a  row  over 
nothing — let's  talk  it  over  seriously " 

"  There's  nothing  to  talk  over.  I've  asked  you 
time  and  again  for  an  allowance  of  money — real 
money,  not  charge  accounts — and  you  always 
refuse " 

"  And  always  shall,  if  you  are  so  ugly  about  it! 
Why  must  you  fly  into  a  rage  over  it?  Your  tem- 
per is " 

"  My  temper  is  roused  by  your  cruelty " 

"Cruelty!" 


70  RASPBERRY  JAM 

'  Yes;  it's  as  much  cruelty  as  if  you  struck  me! 
You  deny  me  my  heart's  dearest  wish  for  no  rea- 
son whatever " 

"  It's  enough  that  I  don't  approve  of  an 
allowance " 

"  It  ought  to  be  enough  that  I  do !  " 

"  No,  no,  my  lady !  I  love  you,  I  adore  you,  but 
I  am  not  the  sort  of  man  to  lie  down  and  let  you 
walk  over  me!  I  give  you  everything  you  want 
and  if  I  reserve  the  privilege  of  paying  for  it  myself, 
it  does  not  seem  to  me  a  crime !  " 

"  Oh,  do  hush  up,  Sanf ord !  You  drive  me 
frantic!  You  prate  the  same  foolishness  over  and 
over !  I  don't  want  to  hear  any  more  about  it.  You 
said  you  had  spoken  the  last  word  on  the  subject, 
now  stop  it !  I,  too,  have  said  my  final  say.  I  shall 
do  as  I  please,  and  I  shall  not  consider  myself  ac- 
countable to  you  for  my  actions." 

"  Confound  it !  Do  what  you  please,  then !  I 
wash  my  hands  of  your  nonsense!  But  be  careful 
how  you  carry  the  name  I  have  given  you !  " 

"  If  you  keep  on,  I  may  decide  not  to  carry  it 
at  all " 

Eunice  was  interrupted  by  the  entrance  of  Fer- 
dinand, announcing  the  arrival  of  Mason  Elliott. 

Trained  in  the  school  of  convention,  both  the 
Emburys  became  at  once  the  courteous,  cordial  host 
and  hostess. 


THE  EMBURYS  71 

"  Hello,  Elliott,"  sang  out  Sanford,  "  glad  to  see 
your  bright  and  happy  face.  Come  right  along  and 
chum  in." 

Eunice  offered  her  hand  with  a  welcoming  smile. 

"  Just  the  boy  I  was  looking  for,"  she  said, 
"  we've  the  jolliest  game  on  for  the  afternoon. 
Haven't  we,  San?  " 

"Fool  trick,  if  you  ask  me!  Howsumever, 
everything  goes.  Interested  in  thought-transference 
bunk,  Elliott?" 

"  I  know  what  you're  getting  at."  Mason  Elliott 
nodded  his  head  understandingly.  "  Hendricks  put 
me  wise.  So,  I  says  to  myself,  s'posin'  I  hop  along 
and  listen  in.  Yes,  I  am  interested,  sufficiently  so  not 
to  mind  your  jeers  about  bunk  and  that." 

"  Oh,  do  you  believe  in  it,  Mason?  "  said  Eunice, 
animatedly;  "  for  this  is  a  faked  affair — or,  rather, 
the  explanation  of  one.  It's  the  Hanlon  boy, 
you  know " 

"  Yes ;  I  know.  But  what's  the  racket  with  you 
two  turtle-doves  ?  I  come  in,  and  find  Eunice  wear- 
ing the  pet  expression  of  a  tragedy  queen  and  San- 
ford,  here,  doing  the  irate  husband.  Going  into 
the  movies  ?  " 

"  Yes,  that's  it,"  and  Eunice  smiled  bravely,  al- 
though her  lips  still  quivered  from  her  recent  tur- 
bulent quarrel,  and  a  light,  jaunty  air  was  forced 
to  conceal  her  lingering  nervousness. 


72  RASPBERRY  JAM 

"Irate  husband  is  good!"  laughed  Embury, 
"  considering  we  are  yet  honey mooners." 

"  Good  dissemblers,  both  of  you,"  and  Elliott 
settled  himself  in  an  easy  chair,  "  but  you  don't  fool 
your  old  friend.  Talk  about  thought-transference — 
it  doesn't  take  much  of  that  commodity  to  read  that 
you  two  were  interrupted  by  my  entrance  in  the 
middle  of  a  real,  honest-to-goodness,  cats'-and- 
dogs'  quarrel." 

"  All  right,  have  it  your  own  way,"  and  Em- 
bury laughed  shortly;  "  but  it  wasn't  the  middle  of 
it,  it  was  about  over." 

"  All  but  the  making  up !  Shall  I  fade  away  for 
fifteen  minutes?  " 

"  No,"  protested  Eunice.  "  It  was  only  one  of 
the  little  tiffs  that  happen  in  the  best  families !  Now. 
listen,  Mason " 

"  My  dear  lady,  I  live  but  on  the  chance  of  being 
permitted  to  listen  to  you — only  in  the  hope  that  I 
may  listen  early  and  often " 

"  Oh,  hush !    What  a  silly  you  are !  " 

"  Silly,  is  it?  Remember  I  was  your  childhood 
playmate.  Would  you  have  kept  me  on  your  string 
all  these  years  if  I  were  silly?  And  here's  another 
of  my  childhood  friends!  How  do  you  do,  most 
gracious  lady  ?  " 

With   courtly   deference   Elliott   rose   to   greet 


THE  EMBURYS  73 

Aunt  Abby,  who  came  into  the  living-room  from 
Eunice's  bedroom. 

Her  black  silk  rustled  and  her  old  point  lace  fell 
yellowly  round  her  slender  old  hands,  for  on  Sunday 
afternoon  Miss  Ames  dressed  the  part. 

"  How  are  you,  Mason,"  she  said,  but  with  a  pre- 
occupied air.  "  What  time  is  Mr.  Hanlon  com- 
ing, Eunice?  " 

"  Soon  now,  I  think,"  and  Eunice  spoke  with 
entire  composure,  her  angry  excitement  all  sub- 
dued. It  was  characteristic  of  her  that  after  a  fit 
of  temper,  she  was  more  than  usually  soft  and 
gentle.  More  considerate  of  others  and  even,  more 
roguishly  merry. 

"  You  know,  Mason,  that  what  we  are  to  be  told 
to-day  is  a  most  inviolable  secret — that  is,  it  is  a 
secret  until  to-morrow." 

"  Never  put  off  till  to-morrow  what  you  can 
tell  to-night,"  returned  Elliott,  but  he  listened  atten- 
tively while  Eunice  and  Aunt  Abby  described  the 
performance  of  the  young  man  Hanlon. 

"Of  course,"  Elliott  observed,  a  little  disap- 
pointedly, "if  he  says  he  hoaxed  the  crowd,  of 
course  he  did;  but  in  that  case  I've  no  interest  in 
the  thing.  I'd  like  it  better  if  he  were  honest" 

"  Oh,  he's  honest  enough,"  corrected  Embury ; 
"  he  owns  right  up  that  it  was  a  trick.  Why,  good 


74  RASPBERRY  JAM 

heavens,  man!  if  it  hadn't  been,  he  couldn't  have 
done  it  at  all.  I'm  rather  keen  to  know  just  how 
he  managed,  though,  for  the  yarn  of  Eunice  and 
Aunt  Abby  is  a  bit  mystifying/' 

"  Don't  depend  too  much  on  the  tale  of  inter- 
ested spectators.  They're  the  worst  possible  wit- 
nesses! They  see  only  what  they  wish  to  see." 

"  Only  what  Hanlon  wished  us  to  see,"  corrected 
Eunice,  gaily. 

And  then  Hanlon,  himself,  and  Alvord  Hen- 
dricks  arrived  together. 

"  Met  on  the  doorstep,"  said  Hendricks  as  he 
came  in.  "Mr.  Hanlon  is  a  little  stage-struck,  so 
it's  lucky  I  happened  along." 

Willy  Hanlon,  as  he  was  called  in  the  papers, 
came  shyly  forward  and  Eunice,  with  her  ready  tact, 
proceeded  to  put  him  at  once  at  his  ease. 

"  You  came  just  at  the  right  minute  to  help  me 
out,"  she  said,  smiling  at  him.  "  They  are  saying 
women  are  no  good  at  describing  a  scene !  They  say 
that  we  can't  be  relied  on  for  accuracy.  So,  now 
you're  here  and  you  can  tell  what  really  happened." 

"  Yes,  ma'am,"  and  Hanlon  swallowed,  a  little 
embarrassedly ;  "  that's  what  I  came  for,  ma'am. 
But  first,  are  you  all  straight  goods?  Will  you  all 
promise  not  to  tell  what  I  tell  you  before  tomor- 
row morning  ?  " 


THE  EMBURYS  75 

They  all  promised  on  their  honor,  and,  satisfied, 
Hanlon  began  his  tale. 

"  You  see,  it's  a  game  that  can't  be  played  too 
often  or  too  close  together,"  he  said;  "  I  mean,  if 
I  put  it  over  around  here,  I  can't  risk  it  again  nearer 
than  some  several  states  away.  And  even  then  it's 
likely  to  get  caught  on  to." 

"  Have  you  put  it  over  often  ? "  asked  Hen- 
dricks,  interestedly. 

"  Ye»,  sir — well,  say,  about  a  dozen  times  alto- 
gether. Now  I'm  going  to  chuck  it,  for  it's  too  risky. 
And  so,  I've  sold  the  story  of  how  I  do  it  to  the 
newspaper  syndicate  for  more  than  I'd  make  out  of 
it  in  a  dozen  performances  You  can  read  it  all  in 
to-morrow's  papers,  but  Mrs.  Embury,  she  asked  me 
to  tell  it  here  and  I  said  yes — 'cause — 'cause — well, 
'cause  I  wanted  to !  " 

The  boyish  outburst  was  so  unmistakably  one  of 
admiration,  of  immediate  capitulation  to  Eunice's 
charm,  that  she  blushed  adorably,  and  the  others 
laughed  outright. 

"  One  more  scalp,  Euny,"  said  Elliott;  "  oh,  you 
can't  help  it,  I  know." 

"  Go  on,  Mr.  Hanlon,"  said  Eunice,  and  he 
went  on. 

"  You  see,  to  make  you  understand  it  rightly,  I 
must  go  back  a  ways.  I've  done  all  sorts  of  magic 


76  RASPBERRY  JAM 

stunts  and  I'm  kinda  fond  of  athletics.  I've  given 
exhibitions  along  both  those  lines  in  athletic  clubs 
and  in  ladies'  parlors,  too.  Well,  I  had  a  natural 
talent  for  making  my  ears  move — lots  of  fellows  do 
that,  I  know ;  but  I  got  pretty  spry  at  it." 

"  What  for?  "  asked  Embury. 

"  Nothing  particular,  sir,  only  one  thing  led  to 
another.  One  day  I  read  in  an  English  magazine 
about  somebody  pulling  off  this  trick — this  blind- 
fold chase,  and  I  said  to  myself  I  b'lieved  I  could  do 
it  first  rate  and  maybe  make  easy  money.  I  don't 
deny  I'm  out  after  the  coin.  I've  got  to  get  my 
living,  and  if  I'd  rather  do  it  by  gulling  the  public, 
why,  it's  no  more  than  many  a  better  man  does." 

"  Right  you  are,"  said  Elliott. 

"  So,  's  I  say,  I  read  this  piece  that  told  just  how 
to  do  it,  and  I  set  to  work.  You  may  think  it's 
funny,  but  the  first  step  was  working  my  fore- 
head muscles." 

"Whatever  for?"  cried  Aunt  Abby,  who  was 
listening,  perhaps  most  intently  of  all. 

"  I'll  tell  you,  in  a  jiffy,  ma'am,"  and  Hanlon 
smiled  respectfully  at  the  eager  old  face. 

"  You  see,  if  you'll  take  notice,  the  muscles  of 
your  forehead,  just  above  your  eyebrows,  work 
whenever  you  shut  or  open  your  eyes.  Yes,  try  it, 
ma'am,"  as  Aunt  Abby  wrinkled  her  forehead  spas- 


THE  EMBURYS  77 

medically.  "  Shut  your  eyes,  ma'am.  Now,  cover 
them  closely  with  the  palm  of  your  left  hand.  Press 
it  close — so.  Now,  with  your  hand  there,  open  your 
eyes  slowly,  and  feel  your  forehead  muscles  go  up. 
They  have  to,  you  can't  help  it.  Now,  that's  the 
keynote  of  the  whole  thing." 

"  Clear  as  Erebus !  "  remarked  Hendricks.  "  I 
don't  get  you,  Steve." 

"  Nor  I,"  and  Eunice  sat  with  her  hand  against 
her  eyes,  drawing  her  lovely  brows  into  contortions. 

"Well,  never  mind  trying;  I'll  just  tell  you 
about  it."  Hanlon  laughed  good-naturedly  at  the 
frantic  attempts  of  all  of  them  to  open  their  eyes  in 
accordance  with  his  directions. 

"  Anyhow,  you  gentleman  know,  for  I  know 
you  all  belong  to  a  big  athletic  club,  that  if  you  exer- 
cise any  set  of  muscles  regularly  and  for  a  long  time, 
they  will  develop  and  expand  and  become  greatly 
increased  in  size  and  strength." 

"  Sure,"  said  Hendricks.  "  I  once  developed 
my  biceps " 

"  Yes,  that's  what  I  mean.  Well,  sir,  I  worked 
at  my  forehead  muscles  some  hours  a  day  for  months 
and  I  kept  at  it  until  I  had  those  muscles  not  only 
developed  and  in  fine  working  condition  but  abso- 
lutely under  my  control.  Look !  " 

They  gazed,  fascinated,  while  the  strange  visitor 


78  RASPBERRY  JAM 

moved  the  skin  of  his  forehead  up  and  down  and 
sideways,  and  in  strange  circular  movements.  He 
seemed  distinctly  proud  of  his  accomplishment  and 
paused  for  approbation. 

"  Marvelous,  Holmes,  marvelous !  "  exclaimed 
Hendricks,  who  had  discovered  that  Hanlon  did  not 
resent  jocularity,  "but — what  for?" 

"  Can't  you  guess?  "  and  the  young  man  smiled 
mysteriously.  "  Try." 

"  Give  it  up,"  and  Hendricks  shook  his  head.  "I 
think  it's  more  wonderful  to  get  thought-transfer- 
ence by  wiggling  your  forehead  than  any  other  way 
I  ever  heard  of,  but  I  can't  guess  how  it  helps." 

"  Can't  any  of  you?  "  and  Hanlon  looked  around 
the  circle. 

"  Wait  a  minute,"  said  Aunt  Abby,  who  was 
thinking  hard.  "  Let  me  try.  Is  it  because  when 
the  thought  waves  jump  from  the  '  guide '  to  you 
they  strike  your  forehead  first " 

"  And  it  acts  as  a  wireless  receiving  station  ? 
No,  ma'am,  that  isn't  it.  And,  too,  ma'am,  I  owned 
up,  you  know,  that  the  whole  thing  was  a  fake,  a 
trick.  You  see,  there  was  no  'thought-transfer- 
ence,'— not  any — none  at  all." 

"  Then  what  do  you  accomplish  with  your  fore- 
head muscles?"  asked  Eunice,  unable  to  restrain 
her  impatience. 


CHAPTER  V 


"Jusx  this,  Mrs.  Embury,  the  impossibility 
of  my  being  blindfolded.  As  a  matter  of  fact, 
it  is  practically  impossible  to  blindfold  anybody, 
anyway " 

"  Why,  what  do  you  mean?  "  interrupted  Hen- 
dricks.  "Why  is  it?" 

"  Because  the  natural  formation  of  most  people's 
noses  allows  them  to  see  straight  down  beneath  an 
ordinary  bandage.  I  doubt  if  one  child  out  of  a 
hundred  who  plays  '  Blind  Man's  Buff '  is  really 
unable  to  see  at  all." 

"  That's  so,"  said  Embury,  "  when  I  played  it, 
as  a  kid,  I  could  always  see  straight  down — though 
not,  of  course,  laterally." 

"  And  noses  are  different,"  went  on  Hanlon. 
"  Some  prominent  beaks  could  never  be  blindfolded, 
but  some  small,  flat  noses  might  be.  However,  this 
refers  to  ordinary  blindfolding  with  an  ordinary 
handkerchief.  When  it  comes  to  putting  fat  cotton 
pads  in  one's  eye  sockets,  before  the  thick  bandage 

is  added,  it  necessitates  previous  preparation.     So, 

79 


80  RASPBERRY  JAM 

my  powers  of  contracting  and  expanding  my  fore- 
head muscles  allow  me  to  push  the  pads  out  of  the 
way,  and  enable  me  to  see  straight  down  the  sides 
of  my  nose  from  under  the  bandage.  Of  course,  I 
can  see  only  the  ground,  and  that  but  in  a  circum- 
scribed area  around  my  feet,  but  it's  enough." 

"  How?  "  asked  Eunice,  her  piquant  face  eagerly 
turned  to  the  speaker.  "  How  did  you  know  which 
way  to  turn?  " 

"  I  don't  like  it,"  declared  Aunt  Abby.  "  I  hate 
it — I'm  absolutely  disgusted  with  the  whole  per- 
formance !  I  detest  practical  jokes !  " 

"  Oh,  come  now,  Miss  Ames,"  and  Hendricks 
chuckled;  "this  isn't  exactly  a  joke — it's  a  hoax, 
and  a  new  one,  but  it's  a  legitimate  game.  From 
the  Davenport  Brothers  and  Herrmann,  on  down 
through  the  line  of  lesser  lights  in  the  conjuring 
business — even  our  own  Houdini — we  know  there 
is  a  trick  somewhere;  the  fun  is  in  finding  it  Han- 
Ion's  is  a  new  one  and  a  gem — I  don't  even  begin 
to  see  through  it  yet" 

"  Neither  do  I,"  agreed  Mason  Eliott  "  I  think 
to  do  what  he  did  by  a  trick  is  really  more  of  a  feat 
than  to  be  led  by  real  thought-transference." 

"  Except  that  the  real  thing  isn't  available — 
and  trick-work  is."  Hanlon  smiled  genially  as  he 
said  this,  and  Embury,  a  little  impatiently,  urged 


THE  EXPLANATION  81 

him  to  go  on,  and  begged  the  others  to  cease 
their  interruptions. 

"  Well,"  Hanlon  resumed,  "  understand,  then, 
that  I  cannot  be  really  blindfolded.  No  committee 
of  citizens,  however  determined,  can  bandage  my 
eyes  in  such  a  manner  that  I  can't  wiggle  my  fore- 
head about  sufficiently  to  get  the  pads  up  or  down  or 
one  side  or  the  other  until  I  can  see — all  I  want  to." 
Hanlon  knotted  up  his  frontal  muscles  to  prove  that 
a  bandage  tied  tightly  would  become  loose  when  he 
relaxed  the  strain.  "  Understand  that  I  can  see  the 
ground  only  for  a  few  inches  directly  at  the  front 
of  me  or  very  close  to  my  sides.  That  is  all." 

"  O.  K.,"  said  Hendricks.  "  Now,  with  your 
sight  assured  for  that  very  limited  space,  what 
is  next  ?  " 

"  That,  sir,  is  enough  to  explain  the  little  game 
I  put  over  in  the  newspaper  office,  before  trying  the 
out-of-door  test.  You  remember,  ladies,  Mr.  Morti- 
mer told  you  how  I  followed  a  chalk  line,  drawn  on 
the  floor,  and  which  led  me  up  and  down  stairs,  over 
chairs,  under  desks,  and  all  that.  Well,  it  was  dead 
easy,  because  I  could  see  the  line  on  the  floor  all 
the  time.  Their  confidence  in  their  '  secure  '  blind- 
folding made  them  entirely  unsuspicious  of  my  abil- 
ity to  see.  So,  that  was  easy." 

"  Clever,  though,"  and  Embury  looked  at  young 

6 


82  RASPBERRY  JAM 

Hanlon  with  admiration.  "  Simple,  but  most  per- 
fectly convincing." 

"  Yes,  sir,  it  was  the  very  simplicity  of  it  that 
gulled  'em.  And,  of  course,  I'm  some  actor.  I 
groped  around,  and  felt  my  way  by  chairs  and  rail- 
ings and  door-frames,  though  I  needn't  have  touched 
one  of  'em.  My  way  was  plainly  marked,  and  I 
could  see  the  chalk  line  and  all  I  had  to  do  was  to 
follow  it.  But  it  was  that  preliminary  test  that  fixed 
it  in  their  minds  about  the  '  willing '  business.  I 
kept  asking  the  '  guide  '  to  keep  his  mind  firmly  on 
his  efforts  to  '  will '  me.  I  begged  him  to  use  all  his 
mental  powers  to  keep  me  in  the  right  direction — 
oh,  I  have  that  poppycock  all  down  fine — just  as  the 
mediums  at  the  seances  have." 

Aunt  Abby  sniffed  disdainfully,  and  Embury 
chuckled  at  her  expression.  Though  not  a  '  spiritu- 
alist/ Miss  Ames  was  greatly  interested  in  telepathy 
and  kindred  subjects  and  like  all  the  apostles  of  such 
cults  she  disliked  to  hear  of  frauds  committed  in 
their  names. 

"  Go  on,"  said  Eunice,  her  eyes  dancing  with 
anticipation.  "  I  love  a  hoax  of  this  sort,  but  I  can't 
imagine  yet  how  you  did  it !  I  understand  about  the 
blindfolding,  though,  and  of  course  that  was  half 
the  battle." 

"  It  was,  ma'am,  and  the  other  half  was — boots !" 


THE  EXPLANATION  83 

"Boots!" 

"Yes,  ma'am.  Do  you  know  that  you  seldom 
see  two  pairs  of  boots  or  shoes  alike  on  men?  " 

"I  thought  they  were  all  alike,"  exclaimed 
Eunice,  "  I  mean  all  street  shoes  alike,  and  all 
pumps  alike,  and  so  forth." 

"No,  not  that,"  and  Embury  laughed;  "but,  I 
say,  Hanlon,  there  are  thousands  of  duplicates!  " 

"  Not  so  you'd  notice  it !  But  let  me  explain. 
First,  however,  here  are  four  men  present.  Let's 
compare  our  shoes." 

Eight  feet  were  extended,  and  it  was  surprising 
to  note  the  difference  in  the  footgear.  Naturally, 
Hanlon's  were  of  a  cheaper  grade  than  the  others, 
but  whereas  it  might  have  been  expected  that  the 
three  society  men  would  wear  almost  identical  boots, 
they  were  decidedly  varied.  Each  pair  was  correct 
in  style,  and  the  work  of  the  best  bootmakers,  but 
the  difference  in  the  design  of  tip,  side  cut,  sole  and 
fastening  was  quite  sufficient  to  prevent  mistaking 
one  for  another. 

"  You  see,"  said  Hanlon.  "  Well,  take  a  whole 
lot  of  your  men  friends,  even  if  they  all  go  to  the 
same  bootmaker,  and  you'll  find  as  much  difference. 
I  don't  mean  that  there  are  not  thousands  of  shoes 
turned  out  in  the  same  factory,  as  alike  as  peas,  but 
there  is  small  chance  of  striking  two  pairs  alike  in 


84,  RASPBERRY  JAM 

any  group  of  men.  Then,  too,  there  is  the  wear  to  be 
counted  on.  Suppose  two  of  you  men  had  bought 
shoes  exactly  alike,  you  wear  them  differently;  one 
may  run  over  his  heel  slightly,  another  may  stub 
out  the  toe.  But,  these  things  are  observable  only 
to  a  trained  eye.  So — I  trained  my  eye.  I  made  a 
study  of  it,  and  now,  if  I  see  a  shoe  once,  I  never 
forget  it,  and  never  connect  it  with  the  wrong  man. 
On  the  street,  in  the  cars,  everywhere  I  go,  I  look 
at  shoes — or,  rather,  I  did  when  I  was  training  for 
this  stunt.  It  was  fascinating,  really.  Why,  some- 
times the  only  identifying  mark  would  be  the  places 
worn  or  rubbed  by  the  bones  of  the  man's  foot — but 
it  was  there,  allee  samee !  I  nailed  'm,  every  one ! 
Oh,  I  didn't  remember  them  all — that  was  only  prac- 
tice. But  here's  the  application ;  when  I  started  on 
that  trip  in  Newark,  I  was  introduced  to  Mr.  Morti- 
mer. Mind  you,  it  was  the  first  time  I  had  ever  laid 
eyes  on  the  man.  Well,  unnoticed  by  anybody,  of 
course,  I  caught  onto  his  shoes.  They  were,  prob- 
ably, to  other  people,  merely  ordinary  shoes,  but  to 
me  they  were  as  a  flaming  beacon  light !  I  stamped 
them  on  my  memory,  every  detail  of  them.  They 
were  not  brand  new,  for,  of  course,  anybody  would 
choose  an  easy  old  pair  for  that  walk.  So  there  were 
scratches,  bumps,  and  worn,  rubbed  places,  that, 
with  their  general  make-up,  rendered  them  unmis- 


THE  EXPLANATION  85 

takable  to  yours  truly!  Then  I  was  ready.  The 
earnest  but  easily-gulled  committee  carefully  ad- 
justed their  useless  pads  of  cotton  and  their  thick 
bandage  over  my  eyes,  and  I  was  led  forth  to 
the  fray. 

"  Remember,  I  asked  Mr.  Mortimer  not  only  to 
think  of  the  hidden  penknife,  and  will  me  toward  it, 
but  also  to  look  toward  it  himself.  Now,  to  look 
toward  any  object,  a  man  usually  turns  his  whole 
body  in  that  direction.  So,  groping  about,  clumsily, 
I  managed  to  get  sight  of  the  toes  of  those  well- 
remembered  boots.  Seeing  which  way  they  were 
pointed  was  all  the  information  I  needed  just  then. 
So,  with  all  sorts  of  hesitating  movements  and  false 
starts,  I  finally  trotted  off  in  the  direction  he  had 
faced.  The  rest  is  easy.  Of  course,  coming  to  a 
corner,  I  was  absolutely  in  the  dark  as  to  whether 
I  was  to  turn  or  to  keep  straight  ahead.  This 
necessitated  my  turning  back  to  Mr.  Mortimer  to 
catch  a  glimpse  of  which  way  his  feet  were  pointing. 
I  covered  this  by  speaking  to  him,  begging  him  to 
will  me  aright — to  will  me  more  earnestly — or  some 
such  bunk.  I  could  invent  many  reasons  for  turning 
round ;  pretend  I  had  lost  my  feeling  of  '  guidance/ 
or  pretend  I  heard  a  sudden  noise,  as  of  danger, 
or  even  pretend  I  felt  I  was  going  wrong.  Well.  I 
got  a  peek  at  those  feet  as  often  as  was  necessary, 


86  RASPBERRY  JAM 

and  the  rest  was  just  play-acting  to  mislead  the 
people's  minds.  Of  course,  when  I  stumbled  over 
a  stone  or  nearly  fell  into  a  coal  hole  or  grating,  it 
was  all  pretense.  I  saw  the  pavements  as  well  as 
anybody,  and  my  effort  was  to  seem  unaware  of 
what  was  coming.  Had  I  carefully  avoided  ob- 
stacles, they  would  know  I  could  see." 

"And  when  you  reached  that  vacant  lot?" 
prompted  Eunice. 

"  I  saw  friend  Mortimer's  feet  were  pointing 
toward  the  center  of  the  lot,  and  not  in  the  direction 
of  either  street  So  I  turned  in,  and  when  I  got 
where  I  could  see  the  burned-down  house,  I  guessed 
that  was  the  hiding-place.  So  I  circled  around  it, 
urging  my  '  guide '  to  look  toward  the  place,  and 
then  noting  his  feet.  I  had  to  do  a  bit  of  scratching 
about;  but  remember,  I  could  see  perfectly,  and  I 
felt  sure  the  knife  was  in  the  charred  and  black- 
ened rubbish,  so  I  just  hunted  till  I  found  it. 
That's  all." 

"  Well,  it  does  sound  simple  and  easy  as  you 
tell  it,  but,  believe  me,  Hanlon,  I  appreciate  the 
cleverness  of  the  thing  and  the  real  work  you  went 
through  in  preparation  for  it  all,"  Hendricks  said, 
heartily,  and  the  other  men  added  words  of  admira- 
tion and  approval. 

But  Miss  Ames  was  distinctly  displeased. 


THE  EXPLANATION  87 

"  I  wouldn't  mind,  if  you'd  advertised  it  as  a 
trick,"  she  said,  in  an  injured  tone,  "as,  say,  the 
conjurors  do  such  tricks,  but  everybody  knows 
they're  fooling  their  audience.  It  is  expected." 

"  Yes,  lady,"  Hanlon  smiled,  "  but  the  fake  me- 
diums and  spirit-raisers,  they  don't  say  they're 
frauds — but  they  are." 

"  Sir,  you  don't  know  what  you're  talking  about ! 
Just  because  there  are  some  tricksters  in  that,  as  in 
all  professions,  you  must  not  denounce  them  all." 

"  They're  all  fakes,  lady,"  and  Hanlon's  air  of 
sincerity  carried  conviction  to  all  but  Aunt  Abby. 

"  How  do  you  know  ?  "  she  demanded  angrily. 

"  I've  looked  into  it — I've  looked  into  all  sorts 
of  stunts  like  these.  It's  in  my  nature,  I  guess. 
And  all  professional  mediums  are  frauds.  You 
bank  on  that,  ma'am!  If  you  want  to  tip  tables  or 
run  a  Ouija  Board  with  some  honest  friends  of 
yours,  go  ahead ;  but  any  man  or  woman  who  takes 
your  money  for  showing  you  spiritual  revelations 
of  any  sort,  is  a  fraud  and  a  charlatan." 

"  There's  no  exception  ? "  asked  Embury, 
quite  surprised. 

"  Not  among  the  professionals.  They  wouldn't 
keep  on  in  their  profession  if  they  didn't  put 
up  the  goods.  And  to  do  that,  they've  got  to  use 
the  means." 


88  RASPBERRY  JAM 

"  Why — why,  young  man — "  cried  Aunt  Abby, 
explosively,  "  you  just  read  '  The  Voice  of  Isis ' ! 
You  read " 

"  That's  all  right,  they  are  plenty  of  fake  books, 
more,  prob'ly,  than  fake  mediums,  but  you  read 
some  books  that  I'll  recommend.  You  read  '  Behind 
the  Scenes  With  the  Mediums,'  or  '  The  Spirit 
World  Unveiled,'  and  see  where  you're  at  then! 
No,  ma'am,  the  only  good  spook  is  a  dead  spook, 
and  they  don't  come  joy-riding  back  to  earth." 

"  But,"  and  Eunice  gazed  earnestly  at  her  guest, 
"  is  there  nothing — nothing  at  all  in  telepathy  ?  " 

"  Now  you've  asked  a  question,  ma'am.  I  don't 
say  there  isn't,  but  I  do  say  there  isn't  two  per  cent, 
of  what  the  fakers  claim  there  is.  I'll  grant  just 
about  two  per  cent,  of  real  stuff  in  this  talk  of 
telepathy  and  thought-transference,  and  even  that  is 
mostly  getting  a  letter  the  very  day  you  were  think- 
ing about  the  writer !  " 

Embury  laughed.  "  That's  as  close  as  I've  ever 
come  to  it,"  he  said. 

"  Yep,  that's  the  commonest  stunt.  That  and 
the  ghostly  good-by  appearance  of  a  friend  that's 
dyin'  at  the  time  in  a  distant  land." 

"Aren't  those  cases  ever  true?"  Eunice  asked. 

"'Bout  two  per  cent,  of  'em.  Most  of  those 
that  have  been  traced  down  to  actual  evidence  have 


THE  EXPLANATION  89 

fizzled  out.  Well,  I  must  be  going.  You  see,  now, 
I've  sold  this  whole  spiel  that  I've  just  given  you 
folks  to  a  big  newspaper  syndicate,  and  I  got  well 
paid.  That  puts  me  on  Easy  Street,  for  the  time 
bein',  and  I'm  going  to  practice  up  for  a  new  stunt. 
When  you  hear  again  of  Willy  Hanlon,  it'll  be  in  a 
very  different  line  of  goods !  " 

"What?"  asked  Eunice,  interestedly. 

"  'Scuse  me,  ma'am.  I'd  tell  you,  if  I'd  tell  any- 
body. But,  you  see,  it  ain't  good  business.  I  just 
thought  up  a  new  line  of  work  and  I'm  going  to 
take  time  to  perfect  myself  in  it,  and  then  spring  it 
on  a  long-sufferin'  public." 

"  No,  I  won't  ask  you  to  tell,  of  course,"  Eunice 
agreed,  "  but  when  you  give  an  exhibition,  if  it's 
near  New  York,  let  me  know,  won't  you  ?  " 

"  Yes,  ma'am,  I  sure  will.  And  now  I'll 
move  on." 

"  Oh,  no,  you  must  wait  for  a  cup  of  tea;  we'll 
have  it  brought  at  once." 

Eunice  left  the  room  for  a  moment.  Aunt  Abby 
in  dudgeon,  refused  to  talk  to  the  disappointing 
visitor.  But  the  three  men  quickly  engaged  him  in 
conversation  and  Hanlon  told  some  anecdotes  of  his 
past  experiences  that  kept  them  interested. 

Ferdinand  brought  in  the  tea  things,  and  Eunice, 
with  her  graceful  hospitality,  saw  to  it  that  her 


90  RASPBERRY  JAM 

guest  was  in  no  way  embarrassed  or  bothered  by 
unaccustomed  service. 

"  I've  had  a  right  good  time,"  he  said  in  his 
boyish  way,  as  he  rose  to  go.  "  Thank  you,  ma'am, 
for  the  tea  and  things.  I  liked  it  all." 

His  comprehensive  glance  that  swept  the  room 
and  its  occupants  was  a  sincere  compliment  and 
after  he  had  gone  there  was  only  kindly  comment 
on  his  personality. 

Except  from  Aunt  Abby. 

"  He's  an  ignorant  boor,"  she  announced. 

"  Now,  now,"  objected  Eunice,  "  you  only  say 
that  because  he  upset  your  favorite  delusions.  He 
punctured  your  bubbles  and  pulled  down  your  air- 
castles.  Give  it  up,  Aunt  Abby,  there's  nothing  in 
your  '  Voice  of  Isis '  racket !  " 

"  Permit  me  to  be  the  judge  of  my  own  five 
senses,  Eunice,  if  you  please." 

"  That's  just  it,  Miss  Ames,"  spoke  up  Hen- 
dricks.  "  Is  your  psychic  information,  or  whatever 
it  is,  discernible  to  your  five  senses,  or  any  of  them  ?  " 

"Of  course,  or  how  could  I  realize  the  presence 
of  the  psychic  forces?  " 

"  I  don't  know  just  what  those  things  are,  but  I 
supposed  they  were  available  only  to  a  sort  of  sixth 
sense— or  seventh!  Why,  I  have  five  senses,  but  I 
don't  lay  claim  to  any  more  than  that." 


THE  EXPLANATION  91 

"  You're  a  trifler,  and  I  decline  to  discuss  the 
subject  seriously  with  you.  You've  always  been  a 
trifler,  Alvord — remember,  I've  known  you  from 
boyhood,  and  though  you've  a  brilliant  brain,  you 
have  not  utilized  it  to  the  best  advantage." 

"  Sorry,  ma'am,"  and  the  handsome  face  put  on 
a  mock  penitence,  "  but  I'm  too  far  advanced  in  years 
to  pull  up  now." 

"Nonsense!  you're  barely  thirty!  That's  a 
young  man." 

"  Not  nowadays.  They  say,  after  thirty,  a  man 
begins  to  fall  to  pieces,  mentally." 

"  Oh,  AI,  what  nonsense !  "  cried  Eunice.  "Why, 
thirty  isn't  even  far  enough  along  to  be  called  the 
prime  of  life! " 

"  Oh,  yes,  it  is,  Eunice,  in  this  day  and  genera- 
tion. Nobody  thinks  a  man  can  do  any  great  cre- 
ative work  after  thirty.  Inventing,  you  know,  or 
art  or  literature — honestly,  that's  the  attitude  now. 
Isn't  it,  Mason?" 

Elliott  looked  serious.  "  It  is  an  opinion  recently 
expressed  by  some  big  man,"  he  admitted.  "  But  I 
don't  subscribe  to  it.  Why,  I'd  be  sorry  to  think 
I'm  a  down-and-outer !  And  I'm  in  the  class  with 
you  and  Embury." 

"You're  none  of  you  in  the  sere  and  yellow," 
declared  Eunice,  laughing  at  the  idea.  "  Why,  even 


92  RASPBERRY  JAM 

Aunt  Abby,  in  spite  of  the  family  record,  is  about  as 
young  as  any  of  us." 

"  I  know  I  am,"  said  the  old  lady,  serenely.  "And 
I  know  more  about  my  hobby  of  psychic  lore  in  a 
minute  than  you  young  things  ever  heard  of  in  all 
your  life !  So,  don't  attempt  to  tell  me  what's  what !" 

"  That's  right,  Miss  Ames,  you  do !  "  and  Mason 
Elliott  looked  earnestly  at  her.  "  I'm  half  inclined 
to  go  over  to  your  side  myself.  Will  you  take  me 
some  time  to  one  of  your  seances — but  wait,  I  only 
want  to  go  to  one  where,  as  you  said,  the  psychic 
manifestations  are  perceptible  to  one  or  more  of  the 
five  well-known  senses.  I  don't  want  any  of  this 
talk  of  a  mysterious  sixth  sense." 

"  Oh,  Mason,  I  wish  you  would  go  with  me ! 
Madame  Medora  gives  wonderful  readings !  " 

"  Mason !  I'm  ashamed  of  you !  "  cried  Eunice, 
laughing.  "  Don't  let  him  tease  you,  Aunt  Abby ; 
he  doesn't  mean  a  word  he  says !  " 

"  Oh,  but  I  do !  I  want  to  learn  to  read  other 
people's  thoughts — not  like  our  friend  Hanlon,  but 
really,  by  means  of  my  senses  and  brain." 

"  You  prove  you  haven't  any  brain,  when  you 
talk  like  that !  "  put  in  Hendricks,  contemptuously. 

"  And  you  prove  you  haven't  any  sense,"  retorted 
Elliott.  "  I  say,  who's  for  a  walk  ?  I've  got  to  sweep 
the  cobwebs  out  of  the  place  where  my  brain  ought 


THE  EXPLANATION  93 

to  be — even  if  it  is  empty,  as  my  learned  col- 
league avers." 

"  I'll  go,"  and  Eunice  jumped  up.  "  I  want  a 
breath  of  fresh  air.  Come  along,  San  ?  " 

"  Nixy.  I've  got  to  look  over  some  papers  in 
connection  with  my  coming  election  as  president  of 
a  big  club." 

"  Your  coming  election  may  come  when  you're 
really  in  the  prime  of  life,"  Hendricks  laughed,  "  or, 
perhaps,  not  till  you  strike  the  sere  and  yellow,  but 
if  you  refer  to  this  year's  campaign  of  the  Athletic 
Club,  please  speak  of  my  coming  election!  " 

"  Oh,  you  two  deadly  rivals ! "  exclaimed 
Eunice.  "  I'm  glad  to  be  out  6f  it,  if  you're  going 
to  talk  about  those  eternal  prize-fights  and  club  the- 
atres! Come  on,  Mason,  let's  go  for  a  brisk  walk 
in  the  park." 

Eunice  went  to  her  room,  and  came  back,  looking 
unusually  beautiful  in  a  new  spring  habit.  The  soft 
fawn  color  suited  her  dark  type  and  a  sable  scarf 
round  her  throat  left  exposed  an  adorable  triangle  of 
creamy  white  flesh. 

"  Get  through  with  your  squabbling,  little  boys," 
she  said,  gaily,  with  a  saucy  smile  at  Hendricks  and 
a  swift,  perfunctory  kiss  on  Embury's  cheek,  and 
then  she  went  away  with  Mason  Elliott. 

They  walked  a  few  blocks  in  silence,  and  then 


94  RASPBERRY  JAM 

Elliott  said,  abruptly :  "  What  were  you  and  Sanford 
quarreling  about  ?  " 

"  Aren't  you  a  little  intrusive?  "  but  a  smile  ac- 
companied the  words. 

"  No,  Eunice ;  it  isn't  intrusion.  I  have  the  right 
of  an  old  friend — more  than  a  friend,  from  my 
point  of  view — and  I  ask  only  from  the  best  and 
kindest  motives." 

"  Could  you  explain  to  me  those  motives  ?  "  She 
tried  to  make  her  voice  cold  and  distant,  but  only 
succeeded  in  making  it  pathetic. 

"  I  could — but  I  think  it  better,  wiser  and  more 
honorable  not  to.  You  know,  dear,  why  I  want  to 
know.  Because  I  want  you  to  be  the  happiest  woman 
in  the  whole  world — and  if  Sanford  Embury  can't 
make  you  so " 

"  Nobody  can !  "  she  interrupted  him,  quickly. 
"  Don't,  Mason,"  she  turned  a  pleading  look  toward 
him ;  "  don't  say  anything  we  may  both  regret.  You 
know  how  good  Sanford  is  to  me;  you  know  how 
ihappy  we  are  together " 

"  Were,"  he  corrected,  very  gravely. 

"Were — and  are,"  she  insisted.  "And  you 
know,  too — no  one  better — what  a  fiendish  temper 
I  have !  Though  I  try  my  best  to  control  it,  it  breaks 
out  now  and  then,  and  I  am  helpless.  Sanford  thinks 
he  can  tame  it  by  giving  me  as  good  as  I  send — by 


THE  EXPLANATION  95 

playing,  as  he  calls  it,  Petruchio  to  my  Katherine — 
but,  somehow,  I  don't  believe  that's  the  treatment 
I  need." 

Her  dark  eyes  were  wistful,  but  she  did  not  look 
at  him. 

"  Of  course  it  isn't!  "  Elliott  returned,  in  a  low 
voice.  "  I  know  your  nature,  Eunice;  I've  known  it 
all  our  lives.  You  need  kindness  when  you  are  in  a 
tantrum.  The  outbursts  of  temper  you  cannot  help 
— that  I  know  positively — they're  an  integral  part 
of  your  nature.  But  they're  soon  over — often  the 
fiercer  they  are,  the  quicker  they  pass — and  if  you 
were  gently  managed,  not  brutally,  at  the  time  they 
occur,  it  would  go  far  to  help  you  to  overcome  them 
entirely.  But — and  I  ask  you  again — what  were  you 
discussing  to-day  when  I  came  ?  " 

"  Why  do  you  want  to  know  ?  " 

"  I  think  I  do  know — and  forgive  me,  if  I  offend 
you — I  think  I  can  help  you." 

"  What  do  you  mean  ?  "  Eunice  looked  up  with 
a  frightened  stare. 

"  Don't  look  like  that— -oh,  Eunice,  don't!  I  only 
meant — I  know  you  want  money — ready  money — 
let  me  give  it  to  you— or  lend  it  to  you— do, 
Eunice — darling!  " 

"  Thank  you,  Mason,"  Eunice  forced  herself  to 
say,  "but  I  must  refuse  your  offer.  I  think — I 
think  we — we'll  go  home  now." 


CHAPTER  VI 

A  SLAMMED  DOOR 

"  DON'T  you  call  her  '  that  Desternay  woman' !  " 

"  I'll  call  her  what  I  please !  And  without  ask- 
ing your  permission,  either.  And  I  won't  have  my 
wife  playing  bridge  at  what  is  practically  a  gam- 
bling house !  " 

"Nothing  of  the  sort!  A  party  of  invited 
guests,  in  a  private  house  is  a  social  affair,  and 
you  shall  not  call  it  ridiculous  names!  You  play 
for  far  higher  stakes  at  your  club  than  we  ever  do  at 
Fifi  Desternay's." 

"  That  name  is  enough !  Fancy  your  associating 
with  a  woman  who  calls  herself  Fifi !  " 

"  She  can't  help  her  name !  It  was  probably 
wished  on  her  by  her  parents  in  baptism " 

"  It  probably  was  not !  She  was  probably  chris- 
tened Mary  Jane ! " 

"  You  seem  to  know  a  lot  about  her." 

"  I  know  all  I  want  to ;  and  you  have  reached  the 
end  of  your  acquaintance  with  her  and  her  set.  You 
are  not  to  go  there,  Eunice,  and  that's  all  there  is 
about  it." 
96 


A  SLAMMED  DOOR  97 

The  Emburys  were  in  Eunice's  bedroom.  San- 
ford  was  in  evening  dress  and  was  about  to  leave  for 
his  club.  Eunice,  who  had  dined  in  a  negligee,  was 
donning  an  elaborate  evening  costume.  She  had  dis- 
missed her  maid  when  Embury  came  into  the  room, 
and  was  herself  adjusting  the  finishing  touches.  Her 
gown  of  henna-colored  chiffon,  with  touches  of  gold 
embroidery,  was  most  becoming  to  her  dark  beauty, 
and  some  fine  ornaments  of  ancient  carved  gold 
gave  an  Oriental  touch  to  her  appearance.  She  stood 
before  a  long  mirror,  noting  the  details  of  her  gown, 
and  showed  an  irritating  lack  of  attention  to  Em- 
bury's last  dictum. 

"You  heard  me,  Eunice?"  he  said,  caustically, 
his  hand  on  the  doorknob. 

"  Not  being  deaf,  I  did,"  she  returned,  without 
looking  toward  him. 

"  And  you  will  obey  me  ?  "  He  turned  back,  and 
reaching  her  side,  he  grasped  her  arm  with  no  un- 
certain touch.  "  I  demand  your  obedience!  " 

"  Demands  are  not  always  granted !  " 

She  gave  him  a  dazzling  smile,  but  it  was  defiant 
rather  than  friendly. 

"  I  make  it  a  request,  then.  Will  you  grant 
me  that?" 

"  Why  should  I  grant  your  requests,  when  you 
won't  grant  mine?  " 

7 


98 

"  Good  Lord,  Eunice,  are  you  going  to  harp  on 
that  allowance  string  again?  " 

"  I  am.  Why  shouldn't  I,  when  it  warps  my 
whole  life " 

"  Oh,  come,  cut  out  the  hifalutin'  talk!  " 

"  Well,  then,  to  come  down  to  plain  facts,  there 
isn't  a  day  that  I'm  not  humiliated  and  embarrassed 
by  the  lack  of  a  little  cash." 

"Bad  as  that?" 

"  Yes,  quite  as  bad  as  that !  Why,  the  day  we 
went  out  to  Newark  I  didn't  have  five  cents  to  buy 
Aunt  Abby  a  newspaper,  and  she  had  to  get  along 
without  one !  " 

"  She  seemed  to  live  through  it." 

"  Sanf  ord,  you're  unbearable !  And  to-day,  at 
Mrs.  Garland's,  a  woman  talked,  and  then  they  took 
up  a  collection  for  the  *  Belgian  Home  Fires/  and  I 
didn't  have  a  cent  to  contribute." 

"  Who  is  she?    Til  send  a  check." 

"  A  check !  You  answer  everything  by  a  check ! 
Can't  you  understand  ?  Oh,  there's  no  use  explain- 
ing; you're  determined  you  won't  understand!  So, 
let  us  drop  the  subject.  Is  to-night  the  club  election?" 

"  No,  to-morrow  night.  But  to-night  will  prob- 
ably decide  it  in  my  mind.  It  practically  hinges  on 
the  Meredith  set — if  they  can  be  talked  over " 

"  Oh,  Sanford,  I  do  hope  they  can!  "    Eunice's 


A  SLAMMED  DOOR  99 

eyes  sparkled  and  she  smiled  as  she  put  her  hands 
on  her  husband's  shoulders.  "  And,  listen,  dear,  if 
they  are — if  you  do  win  the  election,  won't  you — oh, 
San,  won't  you  give  me  an  allowance?  " 

"  Eunice,  you're  enough  to  drive  a  man  crazy ! 
Will  you  let  up  on  that  everlasting  whine?  No,  I 
won't!  Is  that  plain?" 

"  Then  I  shall  go  and  get  it  for  myself ! " 

"  Go  to  the  devil  for  all  I  care!  " 

Sanford  flung  out  of  the  room,  banging  the  door 
behind  him.  Eunice  heard  him  speaking  to  Ferdi- 
nand, rather  shortly,  and  as  he  left  the  apartment, 
she  knew  that  he  had  gone  to  the  club  in  their  motor 
car,  and  if  she  went  out,  she  would  have  to  call  a  cab. 

She  began  to  take  off  her  gown,  half  deciding  to 
stay  at  home. 

She  had  never  run  counter  to  Embury's  ex- 
pressed orders  and  she  hesitated  to  do  so  now. 

And  yet — the  question  of  money,  so  summarily 
dismissed  by  her  husband,  was  a  very  real  trouble 
to  her.  In  her  social  position,  she  actually  needed 
ready  cash  frequently,  and  she  had  determined  to  get 
it.  Her  last  hope  of  Sanford  failed  her,  when  he 
refused  to  grant  her  wish  as  a  sort  of  celebration  of 
his  election,  and  she  persuaded  herself  that  it  was 
her  right  to  get  some  money  somehow. 

Her  proposed  method  was  by  no  means  a  certain 


100  RASPBERRY  JAM 

one,  for  it  was  the  hazardous  plan  of  winning 
at  bridge. 

Although  a  first-rate  player,  Eunice  often  had 
streaks  of  bad  luck,  and,  too,  inexpert  partners  were 
a  dangerous  factor.  But,  though  she  sometimes  said 
that  winnings  and  losings  came  out  about  even  in  the 
long  run,  she  had  found  by  keeping  careful  account, 
her  skill  made  it  probable  for  her  to  win  more  than 
she  lost,  and  this  reasoning  prompted  her  to  risk  high 
stakes  in  hope  of  winning  something  worth-while. 

Fifi  Desternay  was  a  recent  acquaintance  of  hers, 
and  not  a  member  of  the  set  Eunice  looked  upon  as 
her  own.  But  the  gatherings  at  the  Desternay  house 
were  gay  and  pleasant,  a  bit  Bohemian,  yet  exclusive 
too,  and  Eunice  had  already  spent  several  enjoyable 
afternoons  there. 

She  had  never  been  in  the  evening,  for  Embury 
wouldn't  go,  and  had  refused  to  let  her  go  without 
him.  Nor  did  she  want  to,  for  it  was  not  Eunice's 
way  to  go  out  alone  at  night. 

But  she  was  desperate  and,  moreover,  she  was 
exceedingly  angry.  Sanford  was  unjust  and  unkind. 
Also,  he  had  been  cross  and  ugly,  and  had  left  her 
in  anger,  a  thing  that  had  never  happened  before. 

And  she  wanted  some  money  at  once.  A  sale  of 
laces  was  to  be  held  next  day  at  a  friend's  home,  and 


A  SLAMMED  DOOR  101 

she  wanted  to  go  there,  properly  prepared  to  pur- 
chase some  bits  if  she  chose  to. 

Her  cheeks  flushed  as  she  remembered  Mason 
Elliott's  offer  to  give  or  lend  her  money,  but  she 
smiled  gently,  as  she  remembered  the  true  friendli- 
ness of  the  man,  and  his  high-mindedness,  which 
took  all  sting  from  his  offer. 

As  she  brooded,  her  anger  became  more  fierce, 
and  finally,  with  a  toss  of  her  head,  she  rose  from 
the  chair,  rang  for  the  maid,  and  proceeded  to  finish 
her  toilette. 

"  Lend  me  some  money,  will  you,  Aunt  Abby?  " 
she  asked,  as,  all  ready  to  go,  she  stepped  into  the 
living-room. 

She  had  no  hesitancy  in  making  this  appeal.  If 
she  won,  she  would  repay  on  her  return.  If  she  lost, 
Aunt  Abby  was  a  good-natured  waiter,  and  she  knew 
Eunice  would  pay  later; 

"Bridge?"  said  the  old  lady,  smiling  at  the 
lovely  picture  Eunice  made,  in  her  low  gown  and 
her  billowy  satin  wrap.  "  I  thought  Sanford  took 
the  car." 

"  He  did.  I'm  going  in  a  taxi.  What  a  duck  you 
are  to  let  me  have  this,"  as  she  spoke  she  stuffed  the 
bills  in  her  soft  gold  mesh-bag.  "  Don't  sit  up,  dear, 
I'll  be  out  till  all  hours." 

"  Where  are  you  going?  " 


102  RASPBERRY  JAM 

"  To  the  end  of  the  rainbow — where  there's  a 
pot  of  gold !  You  read  your  spook  books,  and  then 
go  to  bed  and  dream  of  ghosts  and  specters!  " 

Eunice  kissed  her  lightly,  and  gathering  up  her 
floating  draperies,  went  out  of  the  room  with  the 
faithful  and  efficient  Ferdinand. 

On  his  way  to  the  club,  Embury  pursued  that 
pleasing  occupation  known  as  nursing  his  wrath. 
He  was  sorry  he  had  left  Eunice  in  anger — he  real- 
ized it  was  the  first  time  that  had  ever  happened — 
and  he  was  tempted  to  go  back,  or,  at  least  to  tele- 
phone back,  that  he  was  sorry.  But  that  would  do 
little  good,  he  knew,  unless  he  also  said  he  was  will- 
ing to  accede  to  her  request  for  an  allowance,  and 
that  he  was  as  sternly  set  against  as  ever. 

He  couldn't  quite  have  told  himself  why  he  was 
so  positive  in  this  matter,  but  it  was  largely  owing 
to  an  instinctive  sense  of  the  fitness  of  having  a  wife 
dependent  on  her  husband  for  all  things.  More- 
over, it  seemed  to  him  that  unlimited  charge  accounts 
betokened  a  greater  generosity  than  an  allowance, 
and  he  felt  an  aggrieved  irritation  at  Eunice's 
seeming  ingratitude. 

The  matter  of  her  wanting  "  chicken- feed  "  now 
and  then  seemed  to  him  too  petty  to  be  worthy  of 
serious  consideration.  He  really  believed  that  he 


A  SLAMMED  DOOR  103 

gave  her  money  whenever  she  asked  for  it,  and  was 
all  unaware  how  hard  he  made  it  for  her  to  ask. 

The  more  he  thought  about  it,  the  more  he  saw 
Eunice  in  the  wrong,  and  himself  an  injured,  unap- 
preciated benefactor. 

He  adored  his  wife,  but  this  peculiarity  of  hers 
must  be  put  an  end  to  somehow.  Her  temper,  too, 
was  becoming  worse  instead  of  better;  her  outbreaks 
were  more  frequent,  more  furious,  and  he  had  less 
power  to  quell  them  than  formerly. 

Clearly,  he  concluded,  Eunice  must  be  taught  a 
lesson,  and  this  occasion  must  be  made  a  test  case. 
He  had  left  her  angrily,  and  it  might  turn  out  that 
it  was  the  best  thing  he  could  have  done.  Poor  girl, 
she  doubtless  was  sorry  enough  by  now;  crying, 
probably.  His  heart  softened  as  he  conjured  up  the 
picture  of  his  wife  alone,  and  in  tears,  but  he  rea- 
soned that  it  would  do  her  good,  and  he  would  give 
her  a  new  jewel  to  make  up  for  it,  after  the  trouble 
was  all  over. 

So  he  went  on  to  the  club,  and  dove  into  the  great 
business  of  the  last  possible  chance  of  electioneering. 

Though  friendly  through  all  this  campaign,  the 
strain  was  beginning  to  tell  on  the  two  candidates, 
and  both  Embury  and  Hendricks  found  it  a  little 
difficult  to  keep  up  their  good  feeling. 

"  But,"  they  both  reasoned,  "  as  soon  as  the  elec- 


104  RASPBERRY  JAM 

tion  is  over,  we'll  be  all  right  again.  We're  both  too 
good  sports  to  hold  rancor,  or  to  feel  any  jealousy." 

And  this  was  true.  Men  of  the  world,  men  of 
well-balanced  minds,  clever,  logical  and  just,  they 
were  fighting  hard,  each  for  his  own  side,  but  once 
the  matter  was  decided,  they  would  be  again  the 
same  old  friends. 

However,  Embury  was  just  as  well  pleased  to 
learn  that  Hendricks  was  out  of  town.  He  had  gone 
to  Boston  on  an  important  business  matter,  and 
though  it  was  not  so  stated,  Embury  was  pretty  sure 
that  the  important  business  was  closely  connected 
with  the  coming  election. 

In  his  own  endeavor  to  secure  votes,  Embury 
was  not  above  playing  the,  to  him,  unusual  game  of 
being  all  things  to  all  men. 

And  this  brought  him  into  cordial  conversation 
with  one  of  the  younger  club  members,  who  was  of 
the  type  he  generally  went  out  of  his  way  to  avoid. 

"  Try  to  put  yourself  in  our  place,  Mr.  Embury," 
the  cub  was  saying.  "  We  want  this  club  to  be  up-to- 
date  and  beyond.  Conservatism  is  all  very  well,  and 
we  all  practiced  it  '  for  the  duration/  but  now  the 
war's  over,  let's  have  some  fun,  say  we!  " 

"  I  know,  Billy,  but  there  is  a  certain  standard 
to  be  maintained " 

"  We,   the  people  of  the  United   States — and 


A  SLAMMED  DOOR  105 

tiddle  tya — tya — tya!  Why,  everybody's  doing  it! 
The  women — bless  'em! — too.  I  just  left  your  wife 
at  a  table  with  my  wife,  and  the  pile  of  chips  between 
'em  would  make  some  men's  card-rooms  hide  their 
diminished  walls !  " 

"That  so?  You  saw  my  wife  this  evening? 
Where?" 

"  As  if  you  didn't  know !  But,  good  heavens ! 
perhaps  you  didn't !  Have  I  been  indiscreet?  " 

"  Not  at  all.    At  Mrs.  Desternay's,  wasn't  it?  " 

"  Yes,  but  you  gave  me  a  jolt.  I  was  afraid 
I'd  peached." 

"  Not  at  all.     They're  friends." 

"  Well,  between  you  and  me,  they  oughtn't  to  be. 
I  let  Gladys  go,  under  protest — I  left  her  there 
myself — but  it's  never  again  for  her!  I  shall  tell 
her  so  to-night." 

Embury  changed  the  subject  and  by  using  all  his 
self-control  gave  no  hint  of  his  wrath.  So  Eunice 
had  gone  after  all !  After  his  expressly  forbidding 
it !  It  was  almost  unbelievable ! 

And  within  an  hour  of  his  receiving  information, 
Sanford  Embury,  in  his  own  car,  stopped  at  the 
Desternay  house. 

Smiling  and  debonair  as  he  entered  the  drawing- 
room,  he  greeted  the  hostess  and  asked  for  his  wife. 

"  Oh,   don't   disturb  her,   dear  Mr.   Embury," 


106  RASPBERRY  JAM 

begged  the  vivacious  Fifi;  "she's  out  for  blood! 
She's  in  the  den,  with  three  of  our  wizards  and  the 
sky's  their  limit !  " 

"Tut,  tut!  What  naughtiness!"  Embury's 
manner  was  just  the  right  degree  of  playful  re- 
proach, and  his  fine  poise  and  distinguished  air  at- 
tracted attention  from  many  of  the  players. 

The  rooms  were  filled,  without  being  crowded, 
and  a  swift  mental  stock-taking  of  the  appointments 
and  atmosphere  convinced  the  newcomer  that  his 
preconception  of  the  place  was  about  right. 

"  I  must  take  her  away  before  she  cleans  out  the 
bunch,"  he  laughed,  and  made  progress  toward 
the  '  den.' 

"  Here  you  are,"  he  said  lightly,  as  he  came  upon 
Eunice,  with  another  woman  and  two  men,  all  of 
whom  were  silently  concentrating  on  what  was  quite 
evidently  a  stiff  game. 

"  Yes,  here  I  am,"  she  returned ;  "  don't  speak 
please,  until  I  finish  this  hand." 

Eunice  was  playing  the  hand,  and  though  her 
face  paled,  and  a  spot  of  bright  color  appeared  on 
either  cheek  she  did  not  lose  her  head,  and  carried 
the  hand  through  to  a  successful  conclusion. 

"  Game  and  rubber !  "  she  cried,  triumphantly, 
and  the  vanquished  pair  nodded  regretfully. 

"  And  the  last  game,  please,  for  my  wife,"  Em- 


A  SLAMMED  DOOR  107 

bury  said,  in  calm,  courteous  tones.  "  You  can  get 
a  substitute,  of  course.  Come,  Eunice !  " 

There  was  something  icy  in  his  tones  that  made 
Eunice  shiver,  though  it  was  not  noticeable  to 
strangers,  and  she  rose,  smiling,  with  a  few  gay 
words  of  apology. 

"  Perfectly  awful  of  me  to  leave,  when  I'm  win- 
ning," she  said,  "  but  there  are  times,  you  know, 
when  one  remembers  the  *  obey '  plank  in  the  matri- 
monial platform !  Dear  Fifi,  forgive  me " 

She  moved  about  gracefully,  saying  a  word  or 
two  of  farewell,  and  then  disappeared  to  get  her 
wrap,  with  as  little  disturbance  as  possible  of  the 
other  players. 

"  You  naughty  man !  "  and  Mrs.  Desternay  shook 
her  finger  at  Embury ;  "  if  you  weren't  so  good-look- 
ing I  should  put  you  in  my  black  books !  " 

"  That  would  at  least  keep  me  in  your  memory," 
he  returned,  but  his  smile  was  now  quite  evidently 
a  forced  one. 

And  his  words  of  farewell  were  few,  as  he  led 
Eunice  from  the  house  and  down  to  the  car. 

He  handed  her  in,  and  then  sat  beside  her,  as  the 
chauffeur  turned  homeward. 

Not  a  word  was  spoken  by  either  of  them  during 
the  whole  ride. 

Several  times  Eunice  decided  to  break  the  silence, 


108  RASPBERRY  JAM 

but  concluded  not  to.  She  was  both  angry  and 
frightened,  but  the  anger  predominated. 

Embury  sat  motionless,  his  face  pale  and  stern, 
and  when  they  arrived  at  their  own  house,  he  assisted 
her  from  the  car,  quite  as  usual,  dismissed  the  chauf- 
feur, with  a  word  of  orders  for  the  next  day,  and 
then  the  pair  went  into  the  house. 

Ferdinand  met  them  at  their  door,  and  performed 
his  efficient  and  accustomed  services. 

And  then,  after  a  glance  at  her  husband,  Eunice 
went  into  her  own  room  and  closed  the  door. 

Embury  smoked  a  cigarette  or  two,  and  at  last 
went  to  his  room. 

Ferdinand  attended  him,  and  the  concerned  ex- 
pression on  the  old  servant's  face  showed,  though  he 
tried  to  repress  it,  an  anxiety  as  to  the  very  evident 
trouble  that  was  brewing. 

But  he  made  no  intrusive  remark  or  implication, 
though  a  furtive  glance  at  his  master  betokened  a 
resentment  of  his  treatment  of  Eunice,  the  idol  of 
Ferdinand's  heart. 

Dismissed,  he  left  Embury's  room,  and  closed 
the  door  softly  behind  him. 

The  door  between  the  rooms  of  Embury  and  his 
wife  stood  a  little  ajar,  and  as  his  hand  fell  on  it  to 
shut  it,  he  heard  a  stifled  gasp  of  "  Sanford !  " 

He  looked  in,  and  saw  Eunice,  in  a  very  white 


A  SLAMMED  DOOR  109 

heat  of  rage.  In  all  their  married  life  he  had  never 
seen  her  so  terribly  angry  as  she  looked  then. 
Speechless  from  very  fury,  she  stood,  with  clenched 
hands,  trying  to  command  her  voice. 

She  looked  wonderfully  beautiful — like  some 
statue  of  an  avenging  angel — he  almost  fancied  he 
could  see  a  flaming  sword ! 

As  he  looked,  she  took  a  step  toward  him,  her 
eyes  burning  with  a  glance  of  hate.  Judith  might 
have  looked  so,  or  Jael.  Not  exactly  frightened, 
but  alarmed,  lest  she  might  fly  into  a  passion  of  rage 
that  would  really  injure  her,  Embury  closed  the  door, 
practically  in  her  very  face.  Indeed,  practically,  he 
slammed  it,  with  all  the  audible  implication  of  which 
a  slammed  door  is  capable. 

The  next  morning  Ferdinand  waited  for  the 
usual  summons  from  Embury's  bedroom.  The  tea 
tray  was  ready,  the  toast  crisp  and  hot,  but  the  sum- 
mons of  the  bell  was  unusually  delayed. 

When  the  clock  pointed  to  fifteen  minutes  past 
the  hour  Ferdinand  tapped  on  Embury's  door.  A 
few  moments  later  he  tapped  again,  rapping  louder. 

Several  such  attempts  br.ought  no  response,  and 
the  valet  tried  the  door.  It  would  not  open,  so  Fer- 
dinand went  to  Eunice's  door  and  knocked  there. 


110  RASPBERRY  JAM 

Jumping  from  her  bed,  and  throwing  a  kimono 
round  her,  Eunice  opened  her  own  door. 

Ferdinand  started  at  sight  of  her  white  face, 
but  recovered  himself,  and  said,  "  Mr.  Embury, 
ma'am.  He  doesn't  answer  my  knock.  Can  he 
be  ill?'* 

"  Oh,  I  guess  not,"  Eunice  tried  to  speak  casu- 
ally, but  miserably  failed.  "  Go  through  that  way." 
She  pointed  to  the  door  between  her  room  and 
her  husband's. 

Ferdinand  hesitated.  "  You  open  it,  Mrs.  Em- 
bury, please,"  he  said,  and  his  voice  shook. 

f<  Why,  Ferdinand,  what  do  you  mean?  Open 
that  door!" 

"  Yes,  ma'am,"  and  turning  the  knob,  Ferdi- 
nand entered. 

"  Why,  he's  still  asleep !  "  he  exclaimed.  "  Shall 
I  wake  him  ?  " 

"  Yes — that  is — yes,  of  course !  Wake  him 
up,  Ferdinand." 

The  door  on  the  other  side  of  Eunice's  room 
opened,  and  Aunt  Abby  put  her  head  in. 

"  What's  the  matter  ?  What's  Ferdinand  doing 
in  your  room,  Eunice  ?  Are  you  ill  ?  " 

"  No,  Aunt  Abby "  but  Eunice  got  no  fur- 
ther. She  sank  back  on  her  bed,  and  buried  her  face 
in  the  pillows. 


A  SLAMMED  DOOR  111 

"  Get  up,  Mr.  Embury — it's  late,"  Ferdinand  was 
saying,  and  then  he  lightly  touched  the  arm  of 
his  master. 

"  He — he — oh,  Miss  Eunice !  Oh,  my  God ! 
Why,  ma'am — he — he  looks  to  be  dead !  " 

With  a  shriek,  Eunice  raised  her  head  a  moment 
and  then  flung  it  down  on  the  pillows  again,  crying, 
"  I  don't  believe  it !  You  don't  know  what  you're 
saying !  It  can't  be  so !  " 

"  Yes,  I  do,  ma'am — he's — why,  he's  cold !  " 

"  Let  me  come  in ! "  ordered  Aunt  Abby,  as 
Ferdinand  tried  to  bar  her  entrance ;  "  let  me  see,  I 
tell  you !  Yes,  he  is  dead !  Oh,  Eunice — now,  Fer- 
dinand, don't  lose  your  head !  Go  quickly  and  tele- 
phone for  Doctor — what's  his  name?  I  mean  the 
one  in  this  building — on  the  ground  floor — Harper — 
that's  it — Doctor  Harper.  Go,  man,  go ! " 

Ferdinand  went,  and  Aunt  Abby  leaned  over  the 
silent  figure. 

"  What  do  you  suppose  ailed  him,  Eunice  ?  He 
was  perfectly  well,  when  he  went  to  bed,  wasn't  he  ?  " 

"  Yes,"  came  a  muffled  reply. 

"  Get  up,  Eunice ;  get  up,  dear.  That  doctor  will 
be  here  in  a  minute.  Brush  up  your  hair,  and  fasten 
your  kimono.  You  won't  have  time  to  dress.  I 
must  put  on  a  cap." 

Aunt  Abby  flew  to  her  bedroom,  and  returned 


112  RASPBERRY  JAM. 

quickly,  wearing  a  lace  cap  Eunice  had  given  her, 
and  talking  as  she  adjusted  it. 

"  It  must  be  a  stroke — and  yet,  people  don't  have 
strokes  at  his  age.  It  can't  be  apoplexy — he  isn't 
that  build — and,  too,  he's  such  an  athlete;  there's 
nothing  the  matter  with  him.  It  can't  be — oh,  mercy 
gracious!  it  can't  be — Eunice!  Sanford  wouldn't 
kill  himself,  would  he?  " 

"  No !  no !  of  course  not !  " 

"  Not  just  now  before  the  election — no,  of  course 
he  wouldn't !  But  it  can't  be — oh,  Lord,  what  can 
it  be?" 


CHAPTER  VII 

A  VISION 

"  I  HAVE  never  been  so  mystified  in  all  my  life !  " 
Dr.  Harper  spoke  in  a  perplexed,  worried  way, 
and  a  puzzled  frown  drew  his  shaggy  eyebrows  to- 
gether. Though  the  family  physician  of  most  of 
the  tenants  of  the  large,  up-to-date  apartment  house, 
he  was  of  the  old  school  type  and  had  the  kindly, 
sociable  ways  of  a  small-town  practitioner. 

"  I  know  Sanford  Embury,  bone,  blood  and 
muscle,"  he  said ;  "  I've  not  only  been  his  physician 
for  two  years,  but  I've  examined  him,  watched  him 
and  kept  him  in  pink  of  condition  for  his  athletic 
work.  If  I  hadn't  looked  after  him,  he  might  have 
overdone  his  athletics — but  he  didn't — he  used  judg- 
ment, and  was  more  than  willing  to  follow  my  ad- 
vice. Result — he  was  in  the  most  perfect  possible 
physical  shape  in  every  particular!  He  could  no 
more  have  had  a  stroke  of  apoplexy  or  paralysis  than 
a  young  oak  tree  could !  And  there's  no  indication 
of  such  a  thing,  either.  A  man  can't  die  of  a  stroke 
of  any  sort  without  showing  certain  symptoms. 
None  of  these  are  present — there's  nothing  present 
8  113 


114  RASPBERRY  JAM 

to  hint  the  cause  of  his  death.  There's  no  cut,  scratch 
or  mark  of  any  description;  there's  no  suggestion  of 
strangulation  or  heart  failure — well,  it's  the  strang- 
est thing  I  ever  ran  up  against  in  all  my  years 
of  practice !  " 

The  doctor  sat  at  the  Embury  breakfast  table, 
heartily  partaking  of  the  dishes  Ferdinand  offered. 
He  had  prescribed  aromatic  ammonia  for  Eunice, 
and  a  cup  of  coffee  for  Miss  Ames,  and  then  he  had 
made  a  careful  examination  of  Sanford  Embury's 
mortal  body. 

Upon  its  conclusion  he  had  insisted  that  the 
ladies  join  him  at  breakfast  and  he  saw  to  it  that 
they  made  more  than  a  pretense  of  eating. 

"  You've  a  hard  day  ahead  of  you,"  he  said,  in 
his  gentle,  paternal  way,  "  and  you  must  be  forti- 
fied as  far  as  possible.  I  may  seem  harsh,  Mrs. 
Embury,  but  I'm  going  to  ask  you  to  be  as  brave  as 
you  can,  right  now — at  first — as  I  may  say — and 
then,  indulge  in  the  luxury  of  tears  later  on.  This 
sounds  brutal,  I  daresay,  but  I've  a  reason,  dear 
madam.  There's  a  mystery  here.  I  don't  go  so  far 
as  to  say  there's  anything  wrong — but  there's  a  very 
mysterious  death  to  be  looked  into,  and  as  your 
physician  and  your  friend,  I  want  to  advise — to  urge 
you  to  keep  up  your  strength  for  what  may  be  a 
trying  ordeal.  In  the  first  place,  I  apprehend  an 


A  VISION  115 

autopsy  will  be  advisable,  and  I  trust  you  will  give 
your  consent  to  that." 

"  Oh,  no !  "  cried  Eunice,  her  face  drawn  with 
dismay,  "  not  that !  " 

"  Now,  now,  be  reasonable,  Mrs.  Embury.  I 
know  you  dislike  the  idea — most  people  do — but  I 
think  I  shall  have  to  insist  upon  it." 

"  But  you  can't  do  it,  unless  I  agree,  can  you  ?  " 
and  Eunice  looked  at  him  sharply. 

"  No — but  I'm  sure  you  will  agree." 

"  I  won't !  I  never  will !  You  shan't  touch 
Sanford !  I  won't  allow  it." 

"  She's  right !  "  declared  Aunt  Abby.  "  I  can't 
see,  doctor,  why  it  is  necessary  to  have  a  post- 
mortem. I  don't  approve  of  such  things.  Surely 
you  can  somehow  discover  what  Mr.  Embury  died 
of — and  if  not,  what  matter?  He's  dead,  and  noth- 
ing can  change  that !  It  doesn't  seem  to  me  that  we 
have  to  know " 

"  Pardon  me,  Miss  Ames,  it  is  necessary  that  I 
should  know  the  cause  of  the  death.  I  cannot  make 
a  report  until " 

"  Well  you  can  find  out,  I  should  think." 

"  I  never  heard  of  a  doctor  who  couldn't  deter- 
mine the  cause  of  a  simple,  natural  death  of  one  of 
his  own  patients !  "  Eunice's  glance  was  scathing  and 
her  tones  full  of  scorn. 


116  RASPBERRY  JAM 

But  the  doctor  realized  the  nervous  tension  she 
was  under,  and  forbore  to  take  offense,  or  to  answer 
her  sharply. 

"  Well,  well,  we'll  see  about  it,"  he  temporized. 
"  I  shall  first  call  in  Marsden,  a  colleague  of  mine,  in 
consultation.  I  admit  I'm  at  the  end  of  my  own 
knowledge.  Tell  me  the  details  of  last  evening.  Was 
Mr.  Embury  just  as  usual,  so  far  as  you  noticed?  " 

"  Of  course  he  was,"  said  Eunice,  biting  the 
words  off  crisply.  "  He  went  to  the  Athletic  Club — 
he's  a  candidate  for  the  presidency " 

"  I  know — I  know " 

"  And  I — I  was  at  a  party.  On  his  way  from 
the  club  he  called  for  me  and  brought  me  home  in 
our  car.  Then  he  went  to  bed  almost  at  once — and 
so  did  I.  That's  all." 

"  You  heard  no  sound  from  him  whatever  dur- 
ing the  night  ?  " 

"  None." 

"  As  nearly  as  I  can  judge,  he  died  about  day- 
break. But  it  is  impossible  to  say  positively  as  to 
that.  Especially  as  I  cannot  find  the  immediate  cause 
of  death.  You  heard  nothing  during  the  night, 
Miss  Ames?" 

"  I  did  and  I  didn't,"  was  the  strange  reply. 

"  Just  what  does  that  mean  ?  "  and  Doctor  Har- 
per looked  at  her  curiously. 


A  VISION  117 

"  Well,"  and  Aunt  Abby  spoke  very  solemnly, 
"  Sanford  appeared  to  me  in  a  vision,  just  as 
he  died- 

"  Oh,  Aunt  Abby,"  Eunice  groaned,  "  don't  begin 
that  sort  of  talk !  Miss  Ames  is  a  sort  of  a  spiritual- 
ist, doctor,  and  she  has  hallucinations." 

"  Not  hallucinations — visions,"  corrected  the  old 
lady.  "  And  it  is  not  an  unheard  of  phenomenon  to 
have  a  dying  person  appear  to  a  friend  at  the  moment 
of  death.  It  was  the  passing  of  Sanford,  and  I  did 
see  him !  " 

Eunice  rose  and  left  the  table.  Her  shattered 
nerves  couldn't  stand  this,  to  her  mind,  foolishness 
at  the  moment. 

She  went  from  the  dining-room  into  the  living- 
room,  and  stood,  gazing  out  of  the  window,  but 
seeing  nothing. 

Dr.  Harper  pushed  back  his  chair  from  the  table. 

"  Just  a  word  more  about  that,  Miss  Ames,"  he 
said.  "  I'm  rather  interested  in  those  matters  my- 
self. You  thought  you  saw  Mr.  Embury  ?  " 

"  I  did  see  him.  It  was  a  vague,  shadowy  form, 
but  I  recognized  him.  He  came  into  my  room  from 
Eunice's  room.  He  paused  at  my  bedside  and  leaned 
over  me,  as  if  for  a  farewell.  He  said  nothing — and 
in  a  moment  he  disappeared.  But  I  know  it  was 
Sanford's  spirit  taking  flight." 

"  This  is  interesting,  but  I  can't  discuss  it  further 


118  .RASPBERRY  JAM 

now.  I  have  heard  of  such  cases,  but  never  so 
directly.  But  my  duty  now  is  to  Mrs.  Embury.  I 
fear  she  will  have  a  nervous  breakdown.  May  I  ask 
you,  Miss  Ames,  not  to  talk  about  you — your  vision 
to  her  ?  I  think  it  disturbs  her." 

"  Don't  you  tell  me,  doctor,  what  to  talk  to  Eunice 
about,  and  what  not  to !  I  brought  up  that  girl  from 
a  baby,  and  I  know  her  clear  through !  If  it  upsets 
her  nerves  to  hear  about  my  experience  last  night, 
of  course,  I  shall  not  talk  about  it  to  her,  but  trust 
me,  please,  to  know  what  is  best  to  do  about  that !  " 

"  Peppery  women — both  of  them !  "  was  Dr. 
Harper's  mental  comment;  but  he  only  nodded  his 
head  pleasantly  and  went  to  Eunice. 

"If  you've  no  objections,  I'll  call  Marsden  here 
at  once,"  he  said,  already  taking  up  the  telephone. 

Eunice  listlessly  acquiesced,  and  then  the  doctor 
returned  to  Embury's  bedroom. 

He  looked  carefully  about.  All  the  details  of  the 
room,  the  position  of  clothing,  the  opened  book,  face 
down,  on  the  night  table,  the  half -emptied  water- 
glass,  the  penciled  memorandum  on  the  chiffonier — 
all  seemed  to  bear  witness  to  the  well,  strong  man, 
who  expected  to  rise  and  go  about  his  day  as  usual. 

"Not  a  chance  of  suicide,"  mused  the  doctor, 
hunting  about  the  room  and  scrutinizing  its  hand- 
some appointments.  He  stepped  into  Embury's  bath- 


A  VISION  119 

room,  and  could  find  nothing  that  gave  him  the 
least  hint  of  anything  unusual  in  the  man's  life.  A 
chart  near  the  white,  enameled  scale  showed  that 
Embury  had  recorded  his  weight  the  night  before  in 
his  regular,  methodical  way.  The  written  figures 
were  clear  and  firm,  as  always.  Positively  the  man 
had  no  premonition  of  his  swiftly  approaching  end. 

What  could  have  caused  it?  What  could  have 
snapped  short  the  life  thread  of  this  strong,  sound 
specimen  of  human  vitality? 

Dr.  Harper  could  find  no  possible  answer,  and 
he  was  glad  to  hear  Ferdinand's  voice  as  he  an- 
nounced the  arrival  of  Dr.  Marsden. 

The  two  men  held  earnest  consultation. 

The  newcomer  was  quite  as  much  mystified  as  his 
colleague,  and  they  marveled  together. 

"Autopsy,  of  course,"  said  Marsden,  finally; 
"  the  widow  must  be  brought  to  consent.  Why  does 
she  object  so  strongly?" 

"  I  don't  know  of  any  reason  except  the  usual 
dislike  the  members  of  the  family  feel  toward  it. 
I've  no  doubt  she  will  agree,  when  you  advise  it.' 

Eunice  Embury  did  agree,  but  it  was  only  after 
the  strenuous  insistence  of  Dr.  Marsden. 

She  flew  into  a  rage  at  first,  and  the  doctor,  who 
was  unacquainted  with  her,  wondered  at  her  fiery 
exhibition  of  temper. 


120  RASPBERRY  JAM 

And,  but  for  the  arrival  of  Mason  Elliott  on  the 
scene,  she  might  have  resisted  longer. 

Elliott  had  telephoned,  wishing  to  consult  Em- 
bury on  some  matter,  and  Ferdinand's  incoherent 
and  emotional  words  had  brought  out  the  facts,  so 
of  course  Elliott  had  come  right  over  to  the  house. 

"  What  is  it,  Eunice  ?  "  he  asked,  as  he  entered, 
seeing  her  fiercely  quarreling  with  the  doctors. 
"  Let  me  help  you — advise  you.  Poor  child,  you 
ought  to  be  in  bed." 

His  kindly,  assertive  voice  calmed  her,  and  turn- 
ing her  sad  eyes  to  him,  she  moaned,  plaintively, 
"  Don't  let  them  do  it — they  mustn't  do  it." 

"  Do  what?  "  Elliott  turned  to  the  doctors,  and 
soon  was  listening  to  the  whole  strange  story. 

"  Certainly  an  autopsy !  "  he  declared ;  "  why, 
it's  the  only  thing  to  do.  Hush,  Eunice,  make  no 
further  objection.  It's  absolutely  necessary.  Give 
your  consent  at  once." 

Almost  as  if  hypnotized,  Eunice  Embury  gave 
her  consent,  and  the  two  doctors  went  away  together. 

"  Tell  me  all  about  it,"  said  Elliott ;  "  all  you 
know — "  And  then  he  saw  how  weak  and  unnerved 
Eunice  was,  and  he  quickly  added,  "  No,  not  now. 
Go  and  lie  down  for  a  time — where's  Miss  Ames  ?  " 

"  Here,"  and  Aunt  Abby  reappeared  from  her 
room.  "  Yes,  go  and  lie  down,  Eunice;  Maggie  has 


A  VISION  121 

made  up  our  rooms,  and  your  bed  is  in  order.  Go, 
dear  child" 

"  I  don't  want  to,"  and  Eunice's  eyes  looked 
unusually  large  and  bright.  "I'm  not  the  sort  of 
woman  who  can  cure  everything  by  *  lying  down ' ! 
I'd  rather  talk.  Mason,  what  happened  to  Sanford?" 

"  I  don't  know,  Eunice.  It's  the  strangest  thing 
I  ever  heard  of.  If  you  want  to  talk,  really,  tell  me 
what  occurred  last  night.  Did  you  two  have  a — 
a  quarrel  ?  " 

"  Yes,  we  did — "  Eunice  looked  defiant  rather 
than  penitent.  "  But  that  couldn't  have  done  it !  I 
mean,  we  didn't  quarrel  so  violently  that  San  burst 
a  blood-vessel — or  that  sort  of  thing!  " 

"  Of  course  not;  in  that  case  the  doctors  would 
know.  That's  the  queerest  thing  to  me.  A  man  dies, 
and  two  first-class  physicians  can't  say  what 
killed  him!" 

"  But  what  difference  does  it  make,  Mason?  I'm 
sure  /  don't  care  what  he  died  of — I  mean  I  don't 
want  him  all  cut  up  to  satisfy  the  curiosity  of  those 
inquisitive  doctors ! " 

"  It  isn't  that,  Eunice ;  they  have  to  know  the 
cause,  to  make  out  a  death  certificate." 

"Why  do  they  have  to  make  it  out?  We  all 
know  he's  dead." 

"  The  law  requires  it.     The  Bureau  of  Vital 


122  RASPBERRY  JAM 

Statistics  must  be  notified  and  must  be  told  the  cause 
of  death.  Try  to  realize  that  these  matters  are  im- 
portant— you  cannot  put  your  own  personal  prefer- 
ences above  them.  Leave  it  to  me,  Eunice;  I'll  take 
charge  and  look  after  all  the  details.  Poor  old  San 
— I  can't  realize  it !  He  was  so  big  and  strong  and 
healthy.  And  so  full  of  life  and  vitality.  And,  by 
Jove,  Eunice,  think  of  the  election!  " 

Though  a  warm  friend  of  Embury,  it  was  char- 
asteristic  of  Elliott  that  his  thoughts  should  fly  to 
the  consequences  of  the  tragic  death  outside  the 
family  circle.  He  was  silent  as  he  realized  that  the 
removal  of  the  other  candidate  left  Alvord  Hen- 
dricks  thewinner  in  the  race  for  president  of  the  club. 

That  is,  if  the  election  should  be  held.  It  was 
highly  probable  that  it  would  be  postponed — the  club 
people  ought  to  be  notified  at  once — Hendricks 
ought  to  be  told 

"  I  say,  Eunice,  there's  lots  of  things  to  do.  I 
think  I  ought  to  telephone  the  club,  and  several 
people.  Do  you  mind?" 

"  No ;  of  course  not.  Do  whatever  is  right, 
Mason.  I'm  so  glad  to  have  you  here,  it  takes  a  load 
of  responsibility  off  of  me.  You're  a  tower  of 
strength." 

"  Then  do  what  you  can  to  help  me,  Eunice.  Try, 
won't  you,  to  be  quiet  and  calm.  Don't  get  so 


A  VISION  123 

wrought  up  over  these  things  that  are  unpleasant  but 
unavoidable.  I  don't  underrate  your  grief  or  your 
peculiarly  hard  position.  The  nervous  shock  is 
enough  to  make  you  ill — but  try  to  control  yourself 
— that's  a  goody  girl." 

"  I  will,  Mason.    Honest  I  will." 

Soon  after  noon  Hendricks  arrived.  He  had 
returned  from  Boston  on  an  early  morning  train, 
and  hearing  of  the  tragedy,  came  at  once  to  the 
Embury  home. 

At  sight  of  his  grave,  sympathetic  face,  Eunice 
burst  into  tears,  the  first  she  had  been  able  to  shed, 
and  they  were  a  real  relief  to  her  overburdened  heart. 

"  Oh,  Alvord,"  she  cried,  hysterically,  "  now  you 
can  be  president !  " 

"Hush,  hush,  Eunice,  dear,"  he  soothed  her; 
"  don't  let's  speak  of  that  now.  I'm  just  in  from 
Boston — I  hurried  over  as  soon  as  I  heard.  Tell  me, 
somebody — not  you,  Eunice — you  tell  me,  Aunt 
Abby,  how  it  happened." 

"  That's  the  strange  part,"  said  Elliott,  who  was 
sitting  at  the  telephone,  and  was,  at  the  moment, 
waiting  for  a  response  to  a  call,  "  the  doctors  can't 
tell  what  ailed  Sanf ord !  " 

"  What !    Can't  tell  what  made  him  die !  " 

"  No ; "  Aunt  Abby  took  up  the  tale,  as  Elliott 
turned  back  to  the  telephone ;  "  and  I  think  it's  very 


124  RASPBERRY  JAM 

queer.  Did  you  ever  know  a  man  to  die,  Alvord,  and 
nobody  be  able  to  tell  what  killed  him?  " 

"  I  certainly  never  did !    What  had  he  eaten  ?  " 

"Oh,  it's  nothing  like  that,"  Eunice  spoke  up; 
"  it  must  be  that  something  gave  way — his  heart, 
or  lungs " 

"  Never !    Sanf  ord  was  a  sound  as  a  dollar !  " 

"  That's  what  Dr.  Harper  says.  They're — 
they're  going  to  have  an  autopsy." 

"  Of  course.  We'd  never  be  satisfied  without 
that.  They'll  find  the  cause  that  way,  of  course. 
Dear  Eunice,  I'm  so  sorry  for  you." 

"  It's  awful  for  Eunice,"  said  Aunt  Abby  "  the 
excitement  and  the  mystery — oh,  Alvord,  do  let  me 
tell  you  what  /  saw !  " 

"  What  ?  "  he  asked,  with  interest. 

"  Why,  it  was  almost  dawn — just  beginning  to 
be  daylight,  and,  you  know — Dr.  Harper  says  San- 
ford  died  about  daybreak — he  thinks — and  I  was 
sort  of  between  asleep  and  awake — don't  you  know 
how  you  are  like  that  sometimes " 

"  Yes." 

"  And  I  saw " 

"  Aunt  Abby,  if  you're  going  to  tell  that  yarn 
over  again,  I'll  go  away !  I  can't  stand  it !  " 

"  Go  on,  Eunice,"  and  Aunt  Abby  spoke  gently. 
"  I  wish  you  would  go  to  your  room  and  lie  down 


A  VISION  125 

for  awhile.  Even  if  you  don't  want  to,  it  will  rest 
your  nerves." 

To  her  surprise,  Eunice  rose  and  without  a  word 
went  to  her  own  room. 

Aunt  Abby  sent  Maggie  to  look  after  her,  and 
resumed  her  story. 

"  I'm  going  to  tell  you,  Alvord,  for  I  must  tell 
somebody,  and  Eunice  won't  listen,  and  Mason  is 
busy  telephoning — he's  been  at  it  all  day — off 
and  on " 

"  Fire  away,  Aunt  Abby,  dear,"  Hendricks  said. 
He  had  small  desire  to  hear  her  meandering  tales, 
but  he  felt  sorry  for  the  pathetic  face  she  showed 
and  listened  out  of  sheer  charity. 

"  Yes,  it  was  near  dawn,  and  I  was  sort  of  dozing 
— but  yet,  awake,  too — and  I  heard  a  step — no,  not 
a  step,  just  a  sort  of  gliding  footfall,  like  a  person 
shuffling  in  slippers. 

"  And  then,  I  saw  a  vague  shadowy  shape — like 
Sanford's — and  it  passed  slowly  through  the  room — 
not  stepping,  more  like  floating — and  it  stopped 
right  at  my  bedside,  and  leaned  over  me " 

"You  saw  this!" 

"  Well,  it  was  so  dark,  I  can't  say  I  saw  it — but 
I  was — I  don't  know  how  to  describe  it — I  was  con- 
scious of  its  presence,  thaf  s  all !  " 

"And  you  think  it  was  Sanford's  ghost?" 


126  RASPBERRY  JAM 

"  Don't  put  it  that  way,  Al.  It  was  Sanford's 
spirit,  leaving  the  earth,  and  bidding  me  good-by  as 
it  wafted  past." 

"Why  didn't  he  bid  his  wife  good-by?  "  Hen- 
dricks  was  blunt,  but  he  deemed  it  best  to  speak 
thus,  rather  than  to  encourage  the  ghost  talk. 

"  He  probably  tried  to,  but  Eunice  must  have 
been  asleep.  I  don't  know  as  to  that — but,  you  know, 
Alvord,  it  is  not  an  uncommon  thing  for  such  ex- 
periences to  happen — why,  there  are  thousands  of 
authenticated  cases " 

"  Authenticated  fiddlesticks !  " 

"  Your  scorn  doesn't  alter  the  truth.  I  saw  him, 
I  tell  you,  and  it  was  not  a  dream,  or  my  imagina- 
tion. I  really  saw  him,  though  dimly." 

"What  did  he  have  on?" 

"  That's  the  queer  part.  Not  his  usual  clothes, 
but  that  sort  of  a  jersey  he  wears  when  he's  doing 
his  exercise." 

"  Oh,  his  gym  suit?    You  saw  it  plainly?  " 

Not  so  very  plainly — but — I  felt  it !  " 

"  Felt  it !    What  are  you  talking  about  ?  " 

"  I  did,  I  tell  you.  He  leaned  over  me,  and  I  put 
out  my  hand  and  touched  his  arm,  and  I — I  think  I 
felt  a  tight  woolen  jersey  sleeve." 

"  Oh,  you  think  you  did!    Well,  that's  all  right, 


A  VISION  127 

then,  but  you  mustn't  say  you  felt  a  ghost.  They're 
not  material,  you  know." 

"  You're  making  fun  of  me,  Alvord,  but  you 
mustn't.  I  know  more  about  these  things  than  you 
do.  Why  shouldn't  I  ?  I've  made  a  study  of  them — 
I've  read  lots  of  books,  and  been  to  lots  of  seances, 
and  lectures — oh,  I  know  it  was  a  manifestation  of 
San  himself ! ' 

"  Well,  Aunt  Abby,  if  it  gives  you  any  comfort 
to  think  it  was,  why,  just  keep  right  on  thinking. 
I  don't  say  there  aren't  such  happenings.  I  only 
say  I  don't  believe  there  are.  I  don't  doubt  your 
word,  you  understand,  but  I  can't  make  my  hard 
common  sense  take  it  in.  My  mind  isn't  built  that 
way.  Did  you  hear  anything  ?  " 

"  I  heard — "  Aunt  Abby  paused,  and  blushed  a 
little — "you'll  laugh,  I  know,  but  I  heard — his 
watch  ticking !  " 

"  Oh,  come  now,  Aunt  Abby,  that's  a  little  too 
much !  I  can't  help  smiling  at  that !  For  I'm  sure 
ghosts  don't  carry  watches,  and  anyway  not  in  a 
gymnasium  suit !  " 

"  I  knew  you'd  jeer  at  it,  but  I  did  hear  the  tick- 
ing, all  the  same." 

"  Wasn't  your  own  watch  under  your  pillow  ?  " 

"  Yes." 

"  Oh,  all  right.    I  haven't  a  word  to  say." 


128  RASPBERRY  JAM 

"  But  it  wasn't  my  watch  I  heard — it  was  a  differ- 
ent sort  of  tick." 

"  Yes,  of  course  it  was.  Ghosts'  watches  have  a 
peculiar  tick  of  their  own " 

"  Alvord,  stop !  It's  mean  of  you  to  poke  fun 
at  me!" 

"Forgive  me,  do;  I  apologize.  It  was  mean, 
and  I'll  stop.  What  else  happened  ?  " 

"  Nothing,"  Aunt  Abby  was  clearly  piqued. 

"  Yes,  tell  me.  What  became  of  the — the  figure?" 

"  Why,  it  disappeared.  Gradually  you  know — 
just  seemed  to  float  away  into  nothingness." 

"  He  gave  you  no  message  ?  " 

"  Not  in  words,  no.  They  rarely  do.  But  the 
appearance,  the  visibility  is  the  usual  way  of  mani- 
festation. I'm  glad  it  occurred.  Oh,  I'm  awfully 
sorry  Sanford  is  dead — I  didn't  mean  that — but, 
since  he  had  to  go,  I'm  glad  he  bade  me  good-by, 
as  he  passed  on." 

"  Well,  I'm  glad,  too,  if  it  is  any  comfort  to  you. 
Are  you  sure  Eunice  had  no  such  experience?  " 

"  Oh,  no — if  she  had!  she'd  have  told  me.  She 
hates  all  such  ideas.  I  suppose  if  she  had  seen  San- 
ford — as  I  did — she  would  have  become  a  believer — 
but  I'm  sure  she  didn't." 

"  Poor  Eunice.    She  is  terribly  broken  up." 

"  Yes,  of  course.    They  were  so  devoted.    They 


A  VISION  129 

had  a  tiff  now  and  then,  but  that  was  because  of 
Eunice's  quick  temper.  She  flares  up  so  easily," 
Aunt  Abby  sighed.  "  San  couldn't  manage  her 
at  times." 

"  I  know.  Poor  girl,  I  don't  blame  her  for  those 
spasms  of  rage.  She  can't  help  it,  you  know.  And 
she's  improving  every  day." 

"  That's  what  Sanford  said.  He  thought  he 
helped  her,  and  I  dare  say  he  did.  But  sometimes  he 
had  to  speak  pretty  sharply  to  her.  Just  as  one 
would  to  a  naughty  child." 

"  That's  what  she  is,  bless  her  heart !  Just  a 
naughty  child.  We  must  be  very  considerate  of  her 
now,  Aunt  Abby,  mustn't  we  ?  " 

"  Yes,  indeed.  She  is  sorely  to  be  pitied.  She 
adored  Sanford.  I  don't  know  what  she  will  do." 


CHAPTER  VIII 

THE  EXAMINER 

WHEN,  after  the  autopsy,  Dr.  Harper  announced 
that  it  was  necessary  to  send  for  the  Medical  Chief 
Examiner,  Eunice  cried  out,  "  Why,  what  do  you 
mean  ?  He's  the  same  as  a  Coroner !  " 

"  He  takes  the  place  of  the  Coroner,  nowadays," 
rejoined  Harper,  "  and  in  Dr.  Marsden's  opinion  his 
attendance  is  necessary." 

"Do  you  mean  Sanford  was  murdered?" 
Eunice  whispered,  her  face  white  and  drawn. 

"  We  can't  tell,  Mrs.  Embury.  It  is  a  most 
unusual  case.  There  is  absolutely  no  indication  of 
foul  play,  but,  on  the  other  hand,  there  is  no  symp- 
tom or  condition  that  tells  the  reason  of  his  death. 
That  is  your  finding,  Dr.  Marsden?  " 

"  Yes,"  agreed  the  other.  "  Mr.  Embury  died 
because  of  a  sudden  and  complete  paralysis  of  res- 
piration and  circulation.  There  is  nothing  we  can 
find  to  account  for  that  and  by  elimination  of  all 
other  possible  causes  we  are  brought  to  the  consider- 
ation of  poison.  Not  any  known  or  evident  poison, 
but  a  subtle,  mysteriously  administered  toxic  agent 
of  some  sort " 

"  You  must  be  crazy ! "  and  Eunice  faced  him 
130 


THE  EXAMINER  131 

with  scornful  glance  and  angry  eyes.  "  Who  would 
poison  my  husband  ?  How  could  any  one  get  at  him 
to  do  it?  Why  would  they,  anyway?  " 

Dr.  Marsden  looked  at  her  curiously.  "  Those 
questions  are  not  for  me,  madame,"  he  said,  a  little 
curtly.  "  I  shall  call  Examiner  Crowell,  and  he  will 
take  charge  of  the  case." 

"  He's  the  same  as  a  coroner !  I  won't  have 
him !  "  Eunice  declared. 

"  It  isn't  for  you  to  say,"  Dr.  Marsden  was  al- 
ready at  the  telephone.  "  The  course  of  events  makes 
it  imperative  that  I  should  call  Dr.  Crowell.  He  is 
not  a  coroner.  He  is,  of  course,  a  Civil  Service  ap- 
pointee, and  as  such,  in  authority.  You  will  do  what- 
ever he  directs." 

Eunice  Embury  was  silent  from  sheer  astonish- 
ment. Never  before  had  she  been  talked  to  like 
this.  Accustomed  to  dictate,  to  give  orders,  to  have 
her  lightest  word  obeyed,  she  was  dumfounded  at 
being  overruled  in  this  fashion. 

The  men  took  in  the  situation  more  clearly. 

"  Medical  Examiner !  "  exclaimed  Hendricks. 
"  Is  it  a  case  for  him?  " 

"  Yes,"  returned  Marsden,  gravely.  "  At  least, 
it  is  a  very  mysterious  death.  Mystery  implies 
wrong — of  some  sort.  Had  Mr.  Embury  been  a 
man  with  a  weak  heart,  or  any  affected  organ,  I 


132  RASPBERRY  JAM 

should  have  been  able  to  make  a  satisfactory  diag- 
nosis. But  his  sound,  perfect  condition  precludes 
any  reason  for  this  sudden  death.  It  must  be  looked 
into.  It  may  be  the  Examiner  will  find  a  simple, 
logical  cause,  but  I  admit  I  can  find  none — and  I  am 
not  inexperienced." 

"  But  if  he  were  poisoned,"  began  Hendricks, 
"as  you  have  implied,  surely,  you  could  find 
some  trace." 

"  That's  just  the  point,"  agreed  Marsden.  "  I 
certainly  think  I  could.  And,  since  I  can't,  I  feel  it 
my  duty  to  report  it  as  a  mysterious  and,  to  me,  in- 
explicable death." 

"  You're  right,"  said  Elliott.  "  If  you  can't  find 
the  cause,  for  heaven's  sake  get  somebody  who  can ! 
I  don't  for  a  minute  believe  it's  a  murder,  but  the 
barest  suspicion  of  such  a  thing  must  be  set  at  rest 
once  and  for  all!  Murder!  Ridiculous!  But  get 
the  Examiner,  by  all  means !  " 

So  Eunice's  continued  objections  were  set  aside 
and  Dr.  Crowell  was  called  in. 

A  strange  little  man  the  Examiner  proved  to  be. 
He  had  sharp,  bird-like  eyes,  that  darted  from  one 
person  to  another,  and  seemed  to  read  their  very 
thoughts.  On  his  entrance,  he  went  straight  to 
Eunice,  and  took  her  hand. 

"  Mrs.  Embury?  "  he  said,  positively,  rather  than 


THE  EXAMINER  133 

interrogatively.    "  Do  not  fear  me,  ma'am.    I  want 
to  help  you,  not  annoy  you." 

Impressed  by  his  magnetic  manner  and  his  en- 
couraging handclasp,  Eunice  melted  a  little  and  her 
look  of  angry  scorn  changed  to  a  half -pleased  ex- 
pression of  greeting. 

"  Miss  Ames — my  aunt,"  she  volunteered,  as  Dr. 
Crowell  paused  before  Aunt  Abby. 

And  then  the  newcomer  spoke  to  the  two  doctors 
already  present,  was  introduced  to  Elliott  and  Hen- 
dricks,  who  were  still  there,  and  in  a  very  decided 
manner  took  affairs  into  his  own  hands. 

"Yes,  yes,"  he  chattered  on;  "I  will  help  you, 
Mrs.  Embury.  Now,  Dr.  Harper,  this  is  your  case, 
I  understand  ?  Dr.  Marsden — yours,  too  ?  Yes,  yes 
; — mysterious,  you  say  ?  Maybe  so — maybe  so.  Let 
us  proceed  at  once." 

The  little  man  stood,  nervously  teetering  up  and 
down  on  his  toes,  almost  like  a  schoolboy  preparing 
to  speak  a  piece. 

"  Now — if   you   please — now "   he   looked 

eagerly  toward  the  other  doctors. 

They  all  went  into  Embury's  room  and  closed 
the  door. 

Then  Eunice's  temporary  calm  forsook  her. 

"  It's  awful  \  "  she  cried.  "  I  don't  want  them 
to  bother  poor  San  ford.  Why  can't  they  let  him 


134,  RASPBERRY  JAM 

alone?  I  don't  care  what  killed  him!  He's  dead, 
and  no  doctors  can  help  that!  Oh,  Alvord,  can't 
you  make  them  let  San  alone  ?  " 

"  No,  Eunice ;  it  has  to  be.  Keep  quiet,  dear.  It 
can  do  no  good  for  you  to  get  all  wrought  up,  and 
if  you'd  go  and  lie  down " 

"  For  heaven's  sake,  stop  telling  me  to  go  and 
lie  down!  If  one  more  person  says  that  to  me  I 
shall  just  perfectly  fly !  " 

"  Now,  Eunice,"  began  Aunt  Abby,  "  it's  only 
for  your  own  good,  dear.  You  are  all  excited 
and  nervous " 

"  Of  course,  I  am!  Who  wouldn't  be?  Mason," 
she  looked  around  at  the  concerned  faces,  "  I  believe 
you  understand  me  best.  You  know  I  don't  want  to 
go  and  lie  down,  don't  you  ?  " 

"  Stay  where  you  are,  child,"  Elliott  smiled 
kindly  at  her.  "  Of  course,  you're  nervous  and  up- 
set— all  you  can  do  is  to  try  to  hold  yourself  to- 
gether— and  don't  try  that  too  hard,  either — for  you 
may  defeat  your  own  ends  thereby.  Just  wait, 
Eunice ;  sit  still  and  wait." 

They  all  waited,  and  after  what  seemed  an  inter- 
minable time  the  Examiner  reappeared  and  the  other 
two  doctors  with  him. 

"  Well,  well,"  Crowell  began,  his  restless  hands 
twisting  themselves  round  each  other.  "  Now,  be 


THE  EXAMINER  135 

quiet,  Mrs.  Embury — I  declare,  I  don't  know  how 
to  say  what  I  have  to  say,  if  you  sit  there  like  a 
chained  tiger " 

"Go  on ! "  Eunice  now  seemed  to  usurp  some- 
thing of  Crowell's  own  dictatorship.  "  Go  on, 
Dr.  Crowell!" 

"  Well,  ma'am,  I  will.  But  there's  not  much  to 
tell.  Our  principal  evidence  is  lack  of  evidence " 

"What  do  you  mean?"  cried  Eunice.  "Talk 
English,  please ! " 

"  I  am  doing  so.  There  is  positively  no  evidence 
that  Mr.  Embury  was  poisoned,  yet  owing  to  the 
absolute  lack  of  any  hint  of  any  other  means  of 
death,  we  are  forced  to  the  conclusion  that  he 
was  poisoned." 

"By  his  own  hand?"  asked  Hendricks,  his 
face  grave. 

"  Probably  not.  You  see,  sir,  with  no  knowledge 
of  how  the  poison  was  administered — with  no  sus- 
picion of  any  reason  for  its  being  administered — we 
are  working  in  the  dark " 

"I  should  say  so!"  exclaimed  Elliott;  "black 
darkness,  I  call  it.  Are  you  within  your  rights  in 
assuming  poison  ?  " 

"  Entirely ;  it  has  to  be  the  truth.  No  agent  but 
a  swift,  subtle  poison  could  have  cut  off  the  victim's 
life  like  that." 


136  RASPBERRY  JAM 

Crowell  was  now  walking  up  and  down  the  room. 
He  was  a  restless,  nervous  man,  and  under  stress  of 
anxiety  he  became  almost  hysterical. 

"  I  don't  know !  "  he  cried  out,  as  one  in  an 
extremity  of  uncertainty.  "  It  must  be  poison — it 
must  have  been — murder !  " 

He  pronounced  the  last  word  in  a  gasping  way — 
as  if  afraid  to  suggest  it  but  forced  to  do  so. 

Hendricks  looked  at  him  with  a  slight  touch  of 
contempt  in  his  glance,  but  seeing  this,  Dr.  Har- 
per interjected : 

"  The  Examiner  is  regretting  the  necessity  of 
thrusting  his  convictions  upon  you,  but  he  knows  it 
must  be  done." 

"  Yes,"  said  Crowell,  more  decidedly  now,  "  I 
have  had  cases  before  where  murder  was  committed 
in  such  an  almost  undiscoverable  way  as  this.  Never 
a  case  quite  so  mysterious,  but  nearly  so." 

"What  is  your  theory  of  the  method?  "  asked 
Elliott,  who  was  staggered  by  the  rush  of  thoughts 
and  conclusions  made  inevitable  by  the  Exam- 
iner's report. 

"  That's  the  greatest  mystery  of  all,"  Crowell 
replied.  He  was  quite  calm  now — apparently  it  was 
concern  for  the  family  that  had  made  him  so 
disturbed. 

"  Poison  was  not  taken  by  way  of  the  stomach, 


THE  EXAMINER  137 

that  is  certain.  Therefore,  it  must  have  been  intro- 
duced through  some  other  channel.  But  we  find  no 
trace  of  a  hypodermic  needle " 

"  How  utterly  ridiculous !  "  Eunice  exclaimed, 
her  eyes  blazing  with  scorn.  "  How  could  any  one 
get  in  to  poison  my  husband  ?  Why,  we  lock  all  our 
doors  at  night — we  always  have." 

"  Yes'm — exactly,  ma'am,"  Crowell  began,  rub- 
bing his  hands  again;  "  and  now,  please  tell  me  of  the 
locking  up  last  night.  As  usual,  ma'am,  as  usual? 

"  Precisely.  Our  sleeping  rooms  are  those 
three,"  she  pointed  to  the  bedrooms.  "  When  they 
are  locked,  they  form  a  unit  by  themselves,  quite 
apart  from  the  rest  of  the  apartment." 

Dr.  Crowell  looked  interested. 

The  apartment  faced  on  Park  Avenue,  and  being 
on  the  corner  had  also  windows  on  the  side  street. 

Front,  enumerating  from  the  corner  and  run- 
ning south,  were  the  dining-room,  the  large  living- 
room,  and  the  good-sized  reception  hall. 
.  Directly  back  of  these,  and  with  windows  on 
a  large  court,  were  the  three  bedrooms,  Eunice's  in 
the  middle,  Sanford's  back  of  the  hall,  and  Aunt 
Abby's  back  of  the  dining-room.  Aunt  Abby's  room 
was  ordinarily  Eunice's  boudoir  and  dressing-room, 
but  was  used  as  a  guest  chamber  on  occasion. 

These  three  bedrooms,  as  was  shown  to  Exam- 


138  RASPBERRY  JAM 

iner  Crowell,  when  locked  from  the  inside  were  shut 
off  by  themselves,  although  allowing  free  communi- 
cation from  one  to  another  of  them. 

"  Lock  with  keys?  "  he  asked. 

"  No,"  Eunice  replied.  "  There  are  big,  strong, 
snap-locks  on  the  inside  of  the  doors.  I  mean  locks 
that  fasten  themselves  when  you  shut  the  door,  un- 
less you  have  previously  put  up  the  catch." 

"  Yes,  I  see,"  and  Crowell  looked  into  the  matter 
for  himself.  "  Spring  catches,  and  mighty  strong 
ones,  too.  And  these  were  always  fastened  at  night?" 

"  Always,"  Eunice  declared.  "  Mr.  Embury  was 
not  afraid  of  burglars,  but  it  was  his  life-long  habit 
to  sleep  with  a  locked  door,  and  he  couldn't  get 
over  it." 

"  Then,"  and  the  bird-like  little  eyes  darted  from 
one  to  another  of  his  listeners  and  paused  at  Aunt 
Abby ;  "  then,  Miss  Ames,  you  were  also  locked  in, 
each  night  with  your  niece  and  her  husband,  safe 
from  intruders." 

"  Yes,"  and  Aunt  Abby  looked  a  little  startled 
at  being  addressed.  "  I  don't  sleep  with  my  door 
locked  at  home,  and  it  bothered  me  at  first.  But, 
you  see,  my  room  has  no  outlet  except  through  Mrs. 
Embury's  bedroom,  so  as  the  door  between  her  room 
and  mine  was  never  locked,  it  really  made  little 
difference  to  me." 


THE  EXAMINER  139 

"  Oh,  is  that  the  way  of  it?  "  and  Dr.  Crowell 
rose  in  his  hasty  manner  and  dashed  in  at  Eunice's 
door.  This,  the  middle  room,  opened  on  the  right 
to  the  boudoir,  and  on  the  left  to  Embury's  room. 

The  latter  door  was  closed,  and  Crowell  turned 
toward  the  boudoir — now  Aunt  Abby's  bedroom. 
A  small  bed  had  been  put  up  for  her  there,  and  the 
room  was  quite  large  enough  to  be  comfortable.  It 
was  luxuriously  furnished  and  the  appointments 
were  quite  in  keeping  with  the  dainty  tastes  of  the 
mistress  of  the  house. 

Crowell  darted  here  and  there  about  the  room. 
He  looked  out  of  the  rear  windows,  which  faced  on 
the  court;  out  of  a  window  that  faced  on  the  side 
street,  peeped  into  the  bathroom,  and  then  hurried 
back  to  Eunice's  own  room.  Here  he  observed  the 
one  large  window,  which  was  a  triple  bay,  and  which, 
of  course,  opened  on  the  court. 

He  glanced  at  Embury's  closed  door,  and  then 
returned  to  the  living-room,  and  again  faced 
his  audience. 

"  Nobody  came  in  from  the  outside,"  he  an- 
nounced. "  The  windows  show  a  sheer  drop  of  ten 
stories  to  the  ground.  No  balconies  or  fire-escapes. 
So  our  problem  resolves  itself  into  two  possibilities : 
Mr.  Embury  was  given  the  poison  by  someone  al- 


140  RASPBERRY  JAM 

ready  inside  those  locked  doors — or,  the  doors  were 
not  locked." 

The  restless  hands  were  still  now.  The  Exam- 
iner bore  the  aspect  of  a  bomb-thrower  who  had 
exploded  his  missile  and  calmly  awaited  the  result. 
His  darting  eyes  flew  from  face  to  face,  as  if  he 
were  looking  for  a  criminal  then  and  there.  He  sat 
motionless — save  for  his  constantly  moving  eyeballs 
— and  for  a  moment  no  word  was  spoken  by  anyone. 

Then  Eunice  said,  with  no  trace  of  anger  or 
excitement,  "  You  mean  some  intruder  was  con- 
cealed in  there  when  we  went  to  bed?  " 

Crowell  turned  on  her  a  look  of  undisguised 
admiration.  More,  he  seemed  struck  with  a  sudden 
joy  of  finding  a  possible  loophole  from  the  implica- 
tion he  had  meant  to  convey. 

"  I  never  thought  of  that,"  he  said,  slowly, 
piercing  her  with  his  intent  gaze ;  "  it  may  be.  But — 
Mrs.  Embury — in  that  case,  where  is  the  intruder 
now  ?  How  did  he  get  out  ?  " 

"  Rubbish ! "  cried  Miss  Ames,  caustically. 
"  There  never  was  any  intruder — I  mean,  not  in  our 
rooms.  Ridiculous!  Of  course,  the  doors  were  not 
locked — they  were  unintentionally  left  open — I  don't 
believe  they're  locked  half  the  time! — and  your  in- 
truder came  in  through  these  other  rooms." 

"  Yes,"  agreed  Hendricks ;  "  that  must  have  been 


THE  EXAMINER  141 

the  way  of  it.  Dr.  Crowell,  if  you're  sure  this  is  a — 
— a — oh,  it  isn't !  Who  would  kill  Embury  ?  Your 
theory  presupposes  a  motive.  What  was  it  ?  Rob- 
bery ?  Is  anything  missing?  " 

Nobody  could  answer  this  question,  and  Ferdi- 
nand, as  one  familiar  with  his  master's  belongings 
was  sent  into  the  room  of  death  to  investigate. 

Unwillingly,  and  only  after  a  repeated  order,  the 
man  went. 

"  No,  ma'am,"  he  said,  on  his  return,  addressing 
Eunice.  "  None  of  Mr.  Embury's  things  are  gone. 
All  his  pins  and  cuff-links  are  in  their  boxes  and  his 
watch  is  on  the  chiffonier  where  he  always  leaves  it. 

"  Then,"  resumed  Hendricks,  "  what  motive  can 
you  suggest,  Dr.  Crowell  ?  " 

"  It's  not  for  me,  sir,  to  go  so  far  as  that.  I  see 
it  this  way :  I'm  positive  that  the  man  was  killed  by 
foul  means.  I'm  sure  he  was  poisoned,  though  I 
can't  say  how.  I — you  see,  I  haven't  been  Medical 
Examiner  very  long — and  I  never  had  such  a  hard 
duty  to  perform  before.  But  it  is  my  duty  and  I 
must  do  it.  I  must  report  to  headquarters." 

"  You  shan't !  "  Eunice  flew  across  the  room  and 
stood  before  him,  her  whole  body  quivering  with 
intense  rage.  "I  forbid  it!  I  am  Sanford  Em- 
bury's wife,  and  as  such  I  have  rights  that  shall  not 
be  imposed  upon !  I  will  have  no  police  dragged  into 


142  RASPBERRY  JAM 

this  matter.  Were  my  husband  really  murdered — 
which,  of  course,  he  was  not — I  would  rather  never 
have  the  murderer  discovered  or  punished,  than  to 
have  the  degradation,  the  horrors  of — a  police  case !" 

The  infinite  scorn  with  which  she  brought  out  the 
last  phrase  showed  her  earnestness  and  her  deter- 
mination to  have  the  matter  pushed  no  further. 

But  Examiner  Crowell  was  by  no  means  the  in- 
efficient little  man  he  looked.  His  eyes  took  on  a  new 
glitter,  and  narrowed  as  they  looked  at  the  angry 
woman  before  him. 

"  I  am  sorry,  Mrs.  Embury,"  he  said,  gently, 
but  with  a  strong  decision  in  his  tone,  "  but  your 
wishes  cannot  be  considered.  The  law  is  inexorable. 
The  mystery  of  this  case  is  deepened  rather  than  less- 
ened by  your  extraordinary  behavior  and  I  must — " 

But  his  brave  manner  quailed  before  the  lightning 
of  Eunice's  eyes. 

"  What !  "  she  cried ;  "  you  defy  me !  You  will 
call  the  police  against  my  desire — my  command! 
You  will  not,  sir !  I  forbid  it !  " 

Crowell  looked  at  her  with  a  new  interest.  It 
would  seem  he  had  discovered  a  new  species  of 
humanity.  Doubtless  he  had  never  seen  a  woman 
like  that  in  his  previous  experience. 

For  Eunice  was  no  shrew.  She  did  not,  for  a 
moment,  lose  her  poise  or  her  dignity.  Indeed,  she 


THE  EXAMINER  143 

was  rather  more  imperious  and  dominating  in  her 
intense  anger  than  when  more  serene.  But  she  car- 
ried conviction.  Both  Elliott  and  Hendricks  hoped 
and  believed  she  could  sway  the  Examiner  to 
her  will. 

Aunt  Abby  merely  sat  nodding  her  head,  in  cor- 
roboration  of  Eunice's  speeches.  "  Yes — yes — that's 
so ! "  she  murmured,  unheeding  whether  she  were 
heard  or  not. 

The  Examiner,  however,  paid  little  attention  to 
the  decrees  of  the  angry  woman.  He  looked  at 
Eunice,  curiously,  even  admiringly,  and  then  went 
across  the  room  to  the  telephone. 

Eunice  flew  after  him  and  snatched  the  instru- 
ment from  his  hand. 

"  Stop ! "  she  cried,  fairly  beside  herself  with 
fury.  "You  shall  not!" 

Both  Elliott  and  Hendricks  sprang  from  their 
chairs,  and  Dr.  Harper  rose  to  take  care  of  Eunice 
as  an  irresponsible  patient,  but  Crowell  waved  them 
all  back. 

"  Sit  down,  gentlemen,"  he  said ; "  Mrs.  Embury, 
think  a  minute.  If  you  act  like  that — you  will — 
you  inevitably  will — draw  suspicion  on  yourself !  " 

"  I  don't  care!  "  she  screamed;  "  better  that  than 
the — the  publicity — the  shame  of  a  police  investiga- 
tion !  Oh,  Sanf  ord — my  husband !  " 


144  RASPBERRY  JAM 

It  was  quite  clear  that  uppermost  in  her  disturbed 
mind  was  the  dread  of  the  disgrace  of  the  police 
inquiry.  This  had  dulled  her  poignant  grief,  her 
horror,  her  sadness — all  had  been  lost  in  the  imme- 
diate fear  of  the  impending  unpleasantness. 

"  And,  too,"  the  Examiner  went  on,  coldly,  "  It 
is  useless  for  you  to  rant  around  like  that !  I'll  simply 
go  to  another  telephone." 

Eunice  stepped  back  and  looked  at  him,  more  in 
surprise  than  submission.  To  be  told  that  she  was 
"  ranting  around  "  was  not  the  way  in  which  she 
was  usually  spoken  to!  Moreover,  she  realized  it 
was  true,  that  to  jerk  the  telephone  away  from  Dr. 
Crowell  could  not  permanently  prevent  his  sending 
his  message. 

She  tried  another  tack. 

"  I  beg  your  pardon,  doctor,"  she  said,  and  her 
expression  was  that  of  a  sad  and  sorry  child. 
"  You're  right,  I  mustn't  lose  my  temper  so.  But, 
you  know,  I  am  under  a  severe  mental  strain — and 
something  should  be  forgiven  me — some  allowance 
made  for  my  dreadful  position "- 

"Yes,  ma'am — oh,  certainly,  ma'am — "  Crow- 
ell  was  again  nervous  and  restless.  He  proved  that 
he  could  withstand  an  angry  woman  far  better  than 
a  supplicating  one.  Eunice  saw  this  and  followed  up 
her  advantage. 


THE  EXAMINER  145 

"  And,  so,  doctor,  try  to  appreciate  how  I  feel — 
a  newly-made  widow — my  husband  dead,  from  some 
unknown  cause,  but  which  I  know  is  not — murder," 
after  a  second's  hesitation  she  pronounced  the  awful 
word  clearly — "  and  you  want  to  add  to  my  terror 
and  distress  by  calling  in  the  police — of  all  things, 
the  police ! " 

"  Yes,  ma'am,  I  know  it's  too  bad — but,  my 
duty,  ma'am—- — " 

"  Your  duty  is  first,  to  me !  "  Eunice's  smile  was 
dazzling.  It  had  been  a  callous  heart,  indeed,  that 
would  not  be  touched  by  it ! 

"  To  you,  ma'am?  "  The  Examiner's  tone  was 
innocence  itself. 

"  Yes,"  Eunice  faltered,  for  she  began  to  realize 
she  was  not  gaining  ground.  "  You  owe  me  the — 
don't  they  call  it  the  benefit  of  the  doubt?  " 

"What  doubt,  ma'am?" 

"  Why,  doubt  as  to  murder.  If  my  husband  died 
a  natural  death  you  know  there's  no  reason  to  call 
the  police.  And  as  you're  not  sure,  I  claim  that  you 
must  give  me  the  benefit  of  your  doubt  and  not 
call  them." 

"  Now,  ma'am,  you  don't  put  that  just  right. 
You  see,  the  police  are  the  people  who  must  settle 
that  doubt.  It's  that  very  doubt  that  makes  it  neces- 
sary to  call  them.  And,  truly,  Mrs.  Embury,  it 
10 


146  RASPBERRY  JAM 

won't  be  any  such  horrible  ordeal  as  you  seem  to 
anticipate.  They're  decent  men,  and  all  they  want 
to  get  at  is  the  truth." 

"  That  isn't  so !  "  Eunice  was  angry  again. 
"  They're  horrible  men !  rude,  unkempt,  low-down, 
common  men!  I  won't  have  them  in  my  house!. 
You  have  no  right  to  insist  on  it.  They'll  be  all  over 
the  rooms,  prying  into  everything,  looking  here, 
there  and  all  over!  They'll  ask  impertinent  ques- 
tions; they'll  assume  all  sorts  of  things  that  aren't 
true,  and  they'll  wind  up  by  coming  to  a  positively 
false  conclusion !  Alvord,  Mason,  you're  my  friends 
— help  me  out!  Don't  let  this  man  do  as  he 
threatens ! " 

"  Listen,  Eunice,"  Elliott  said,  striving  to  quiet 
her ;  "  we  can't  help  the  necessity  Dr.  Crowell  sees 
of  notifying  the  police.  But  we  can  help  you.  Only, 
however,  if  you'll  be  sensible,  dear,  and  trust  to  our 
word  that  it  can't  be  helped,  and  you  must  let  it  go 
on  quietly " 

"  Oh,  hush  up,  Mason ;  your  talk  drives  me 
crazy!  Alvord,  are  you  a  broken  reed,  too?  Is 
there  nobody  to  stand  by  me  ?  " 

"  I'll  try,"  and  Hendricks  went  and  spoke  to  Dr. 
Crowell  in  low  tones.  A  whispered  colloquy  fol- 
lowed, but  it  soon  became  clear  that  Hendricks' 


THE  EXAMINER  147 

pleas,  of  whatever  nature,  were  unsuccessful,  and  he 
returned  to  Eunice's  side. 

"  Nothing  doing,"  he  said,  with  an  attempt  at 
lightness.  "  He  won't  listen  to  reason — nor  to 
bribery  and  corruption — "  this  last  was  said  openly 
and  with  a  smile  that  robbed  the  idea  of  any 
real  seriousness. 

And  then  Dr.  Crowell  again  lifted  the  telephone 
and  called  up  Headquarters. 


CHAPTER  IX 

HAMLET 

OF  the  two  detectives  who  arrived  in  response  to 
the  Examiner's  call,  one  almost  literally  fulfilled 
Eunice's  prophecy  of  a  rude,  unkempt,  common  man. 
His  name  was  Shane  and  he  strode  into  the  room 
with  a  bumptious,  self-important  air,  his  burly  frame 
looking  especially  awkward  and  unwieldy  in  the 
gentle  surroundings. 

His  companion,  however,  a  younger  man  named 
Driscoll,  was  of  a  finer  type,  and  showed  at  least  an 
appreciation  of  the  nature  of  the  home  which  he 
had  entered. 

"We're  up  from  the  homicide  bureau,"  Shane 
said  to  Dr.  Crowell,  quite  ignoring  the  others  pres- 
ent. "  Tell  us  all  you  know." 

In  the  fewest  possible  words  the  Medical  Exam- 
iner did  this,  and  Shane  paid  close  attention. 

Driscoll  listened,  too,  but  his  glance,  instead  of 
being  fixed  on  the  speaker,  darted  from  one  to  an- 
other of  the  people  sitting  round. 

He  noted  carefully  Eunice's  beautiful,  angry 

face,  as  she  sat,  looking  out  of  a  window,  disdaining 

any  connection  with  the  proceedings.     He  watched 

Miss  Ames,  nervously  rolling  her  handkerchief  into 

148 


HAMLET  149 

a  ball  and  shaking  it  out  again ;  Mason  Elliott,  calm, 
grave,  and  earnestly  attentive;  Alvord  Hendricks, 
alert,  eager,  sharply  critical. 

And  in  the  background,  Ferdinand,  the  well- 
trained  butler,  hovering  in  the  doorway. 

All  these  things  Driscoll  studied,  for  his  method 
was  judging  from  the  manners  of  individuals,  where- 
as, Shane  gathered  his  conclusions  from  their  defi- 
nite statements. 

And,  having  listened  to  Dr.  Crowell's  account, 
Shane  turned  to  Eunice  and  said  bluntly,  "  You  and 
your  husband  good  friends  ?  " 

Eunice  gasped.  Then,  after  one  scathing  glance, 
she  deliberately  turned  back  to  the  window,  and 
neglected  to  answer. 

"  That  won't  do,  ma'am,"  said  Shane,  in  his 
heavy  voice,  which  was  coarse  and  uncultured  but 
not  intentionally  rude.  "I'm  here  to  ask  questions 
and  you  people  have  got  to  answer  'em.  Mebbe  I 
can  put  it  different.  Was  you  and  Mr.  Embury  on 
good  terms  ?  " 

"  Certainly."  The  word  was  forced  from 
Eunice's  scornful  lips,  and  accompanied  by  an  icy 
glance  meant  to  freeze  the  detective,  but  which 
utterly  failed. 

"  No  rows  or  disagreements,  eh  ?  "  Shane's 
smile  was  unbearable,  and  Eunice  turned  and  faced 
him  like  an  angry  thing  at  bay. 


150  RASPBERRY  JAM 

"  I  forbid  you  to  speak  to  me,"  she  said,  and 
looked  at  Shane  as  if  he  were  some  miserable,  crawl- 
ing reptile.  "  Mason,  will  you  answer  this  man 
forme?" 

"  No,  no,  lady,"  Shane  seemed  to  humor  her.  "  I 
must  get  your  own  word  for  it.  Don't  you  want 
me  to  find  out  who  killed  your  husband  ?  Don't  you 
want  the  truth  known?  Are  you  afraid  to  have  it 
told?  Hey?" 

Shane's  secret  theory  was  that  of  a  sort  of  third 
degree  applied  at  the  very  beginning  often  scared 
people  into  a  quick  confession  of  the  truth  and  saved 
time  in  the  long  run. 

Driscoll  knew  of  this  and  did  not  approve. 

"  Let  up,  Shane,"  he  muttered;  "  this  is  no  time 
for  such  talk.  You  don't  know  anything  yet." 

"  Go  ahead,  you,"  returned  Shane,  not  unwill- 
ingly, and  Driscoll  did. 

"Of  course  we  must  ask  questions,  Mrs.  Em- 
bury," he  said,  and  his  politeness  gained  him  a 
hearing  from  Eunice. 

She  looked  at  him  with,  at  least,  toleration,  as  he 
began  to  question  her. 

"When  did  you  last  see  Mr.  Embury  alive, 
ma'am?" 

"  Last  night,"  replied  Eunice,  "  about  midnight, 
when  we  retired." 


HAMLET  151 

"  He  was  in  his  usual  health  and  spirits?  " 

"  Yes." 

"  You  have  two  bedrooms  ?  " 

"  Yes." 

4 'Door  between?" 

"  Yes." 

"  Open  or  shut — after  you  said  good-night  to 
Mr.  Embury  ?  " 

"  Closed." 

"Locked?" 

"  No." 

"  Who  shut  it." 

"  Mr.  Embury." 

"Bang  it?" 

"Sir?" 

"  Did  he  bang  it  shut  ?    Slam  it  ?  " 

"  Mr.  Embury  was  a  gentleman." 

"  Yes,  I  know.    Did  he  slam  that  door?  " 

"  N— no." 

"  He  did,"  and  Driscoll  nodded  his  head,  as  if  not 
minding  Eunice's  stammered  denial,  but  not  believ- 
ing it,  either. 

"  Now,  as  he  closed  that  door  with  a  bang, 
ma'am,  I  gather  that  you  two  had  a — well,  say,  a 
little  tiff — a  quarrel.  Might  as  well  own  up,  ma'am, 
— it'll  come  out,  and  it's  better  you  should  tell  me 
the  truth." 


152  RASPBERRY  JAM 

"  I  am  not  accustomed  to  telling  anything  else !  " 
Eunice  declared,  holding  herself  together  with  a 
very  evident  effort  "  Mr.  Embury  and  I  had  a 
slight  difference  of  opinion,  but  not  enough  to  call 
a  quarrel." 

"What  about?  "  broke  in  Shane,  who  had  been 
listening  intently. 

Eunice  did  not  speak  until  Elliott  advised  her. 
"  Tell  all  Eunice — it  is  the  best  way." 

"  We  had  a  slight  discussion,"  Eunice  said,  "  but 
it  was  earlier  in  the  evening.  We  had  spent  the 
evening  out — Mr.  Embury  at  his  club,  and  I  at  the 
house  of  a  friend.  We  came  home  together — Mr. 
Embury  called  for  me  in  our  own  car.  On  reaching 
home,  we  had  no  angry  words — and  as  it  was  late, 
we  retired  at  once.  That  is  all.  Mr.  Embury  closed 
the  door  between  our  bedrooms,  and  that  is  the  last 
I  ever  saw  of  him  until — this  morning " 

She  did  not  break  down,  but  she  seemed  to  think 
she  had  told  all  and  she  ceased  speaking. 

"  And  then  he  was  dead,"  Shane  mused.  "  What 
doctor  did  you  call  ?  " 

Dr.  Crowell  took  up  the  narrative  and  told  of 
Dr.  Harper  and  Dr.  Marsden,  who  were  not  now 
present.  He  told  further  of  the  mysterious  and 
undiscoverable  cause  of  the  death. 

"  Let  me  see  him,"  said  Shane,  rising  suddenly. 


HAMLET  153 

Most  of  this  man's  movements  were  sudden — and 
as  he  was  in  every  respect  awkward  and  uncouth, 
Eunice's  dislike  of  him  grew  momentarily. 

"  Isn't  he  dreadful !  "  she  cried,  as  the  two  de- 
tectives and  the  Medical  Examiner  disappeared  into 
Embury's  room. 

"  Yes,"  agreed  Hendricks,  "  but,  Eunice,  you 
must  not  antagonize  him.  It  can't  do  any  good — 
and  it  may  do  harm." 

"  Harm  ?  How  ?  "  and  Eunice  turned  her  big, 
wondering  eyes  on  Hendrick. 

"  Oh,  it  isn't  wise  to  cross  a  man  like  that.  He's 
a  common  clod,  but  he  represents  authority — he  rep- 
resents the  law,  and  we  must  respect  that  fact,  how- 
ever his  personal  manner  offends  us." 

"All  right,  Alvord,  I  understand;  but  there's 
no  use  in  my  seeing  him  again.  Can't  you  and 
Mason  settle  up  things  and  let  Aunt  Abby  and  me 
go  to  our  rooms  ?  " 

"No,  Eunice;"  Hendricks'  voice  was  grave. 
"  You  must  stay  here.  And,  too,  they  will  go 
through  your  room,  searching." 

"  My  room !  My  bedroom !  They  shan't !  I 
won't  have  it!  Mason,  must  I  submit  to  such  hor- 
rible things?" 

"  Now,  Eunice,  dear,"  Mason  Elliott  spoke  very 
gently,  "  we  can't  blink  matters.  We  must  face  this 


154  RASPBERRY  JAM 

squarely.  The  police  think  San  ford  was  murdered. 
They're  endeavoring  to  find  out  who  killed  him.  To 
do  their  duty  in  the  matter  they  have  to  search 
everywhere.  It's  the  law,  you  know,  and  we  can't 
get  away  from  it.  So,  try  to  take  it  as  quietly  as 
you  can." 

"  Oh,  my!  oh,  my !  "  wailed  Aunt  Abby;  "  that 
I  should  live  to  see  this  day !  A  murder  in  my  own 
family !  No  wonder  poor  Sanford's  troubled  spirit 
paused  in  its  passing  to  bid  me  farewell." 

Eunice  shrieked.  "  Aunt  Abby,  if  you  start  up 
that  talk,  I  shall  go  stark,  staring  mad!  Hush!  I 
won't  have  it !  " 

"  Let  up  on  the  spook  stuff,  Miss  Ames,"  begged 
Hendricks.  "  Our  poor  Eunice  is  just  about  at  the 
end  of  her  rope." 

"So  am  I !  "  cried  Aunt  Abby.  "  I'm  entitled 
to  some  consideration!  Here's  the  whole  house 
turned  upside  down  with  a  murder  and  police  and 
all  that,  and  nobody  considers  me !  It's  all  Eunice !  " 
Then,  with  a  softened  voice,  she  added,  "  And  Lord 
knows,  she's  got  enough  to  bear !  " 

"Yes,  I  have!"  Eunice  was  composed  again, 
now.  "  But  I  can  bear  it.  I'm  not  going  to  collapse ! 
Don't  be  afraid  for  me.  And  I  do  consider  you. 
Aunt  Abby.  It's  dreadful  for  you — for  both 
of  us." 


HAMLET  155 

Eunice  crossed  the  room  and  sat  by  the  elder 
lady,  and  they  comforted  one  another. 

Shane  came  back  to  the  living-room. 

"  Here's  the  way  it  is,"  he  said,  gruffly.  "  Those 
three  bedrooms  all  open  into  each  other;  but  when 
their  doors  that  open  out  into  these  here  other  rooms 
are  locked  they're  quite  shut  off  by  themselves,  and 
nobody  can  get  into  'em.  Now  that  last  room,  the 
one  the  old  lady  sleeps  in,  that  don't  have  a  door 
except  into  Mrs.  Embury's  room.  What  I'm  gettin' 
at  is,  if  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Embury's  room  doors  is  locked 
— not  meanin'  the  door  between — then  those  three 
people  are  locked  in  there  every  night,  and  can't  get 
out  or  in,  except  through  those  two  locked  doors. 

"  Well,  this  morning — where's  that  butler  man?" 

"  Here,  sir,"  and  Ferdinand  appeared  promptly, 
and  with  his  usual  correct  demeanor. 

"  Yes,  you.  Now,  this  morning,  those  two  doors 
to  the  sleeping  rooms  was  locked,  I  understand?  " 

"  Yes,  sir.    They  were." 

"  Usually — what  happens  ?  " 

"What — what  happens,  sir?" 

"Yes;  what's  your  first  duty  in  the  morning? 
Does  Mr.  Embury  call  you — or  ring  for  you  ?  " 

"  Oh,  that,  sir.  Why,  generally  Mr.  Embury 
unlocked  his  door  about  eight  o'clock " 

"  And  you  went  to  help  him  dress?  " 


156  RASPBERRY  JAM 

"  No,  sir.  Mr.  Embury  didn't  require  that. 
I  valeted  his  clothes,  like,  and  kept  them  in  order, 
but  he  dressed  by  himself.  I  took  him  some  tea  and 
toast — he  had  that  before  the  regular  breakfast — " 

"  And  this  morning — when  he  didn't  ring  or 
make  any  sound,  what  did  you  do  ?  " 

"  I  waited  a  little  while  and  then  I  rapped  at 
Mrs.  Embury's  door." 

"Yes;  and  she — now,  be  careful,  man — " 
Shane's  voice  was  impressive.  "  How  did  she  act  ? 
Unusual,  or  frightened  in  any  way  ?  " 

"  Not  a  bit,  sir.  Mrs.  Embury  was  surprised, 
and  when  I  said  Mr.  Embury  didn't  answer  my 
knock,  she  let  me  go  through  her  room  to  his." 

"  Exactly.  And  then  you  found  your  mas- 
ter dead?" 

"  Yes,  sir." 

"  Now — what  is  your  name?  " 

"  Ferdinand." 

"  Yes.  Now,  Ferdinand,  you  know  Mr.  and 
Mrs.  Embury  had  a  quarrel  last  night " 

"  Yes,  sir." 

The  trap  had  worked !  Shane  had  brought  about 
the  admission  from  the  servant  that  Eunice  had 
refused  to  make.  A  smile  of  satisfaction  settled  on 
his  ugly  features,  as  he  nodded  his  head  and  went  on. 

"  At  what  time  was  this?  " 


HAMLET  157 

"  Ferdinand,  be  quiet,"  said  Eunice,  her  own 
voice  low  and  even,  but  her  face  was  ablaze  with 
wrath.  "  You  know  nothing  of  such  things !  " 

"  That's  right,  sir,  I  don't." 

Clearly,  the  butler,  restored  to  his  sense  of  the 
responsibilities  of  his  position,  felt  he  had  made  a 
misstep  and  regretted  it. 

"  Be  quiet,  madam !  "  Shane  hurled  at  Eunice, 
and  turning  to  the  frightened  Ferdinand,  said: 
"  You  tell  the  truth,  or  you'll  go  to  jail !  At  what 
time  was  this  quarrel  that  you  have  admitted 
took  place?  " 

Eunice  stood,  superbly  indifferent,  looking  like 
a  tragedy  queen.  "  Tell  him,  Ferdinand;  tell  all  you 
know,  but  tell  only  the  truth." 

"  Yes,  ma'am.  Yes,  sir;  why,  it  was  just  before 
they  went  out." 

"  Ah,  before.    Did  they  go  out  together?  " 

"  No,  sir.  Mrs.  Embury  went  later — by  herself." 

"  I  told  you  that !  "  Eunice  interposed.  "  I  gave 
you  a  detailed  account  of  the  evening." 

"  You  omitted  the  quarrel.    What  was  it  about  ?" 

"  It  was  scarcely  important  enough  to  call  a 
quarrel.  My  husband  and  I  frequently  disagreed  on 
trifling  matters.  We  were  both  a  little  short-tem- 
pered, and  often  had  altercations  that  were  for- 
gotten as  soon  as  they  occurred." 


15«  RASPBERRY  JAM 

"  And  that's  true,"  put  in  Miss  Ames.  "  For  two 
people  who  loved  each  other  to  distraction,  I  often 
thought  the  Emburys  were  the  most  quarrelsome  I 
ever  saw." 

Shane  looked  sharply  at  the  old  lady.  "  Is 
that  so  ?  "  he  said.  "  Did  you  hear  this  particular 
quarrel,  ma'am  ?  " 

"  Not  that  I  remember.  If  I  did,  I  didn't  take 
much  notice  of  it." 

"What  was  it  about?" 

"  Oh,  the  same  old  subject.  Mrs.  Embury 
wanted " 

"  Aunt  Abby,  hush !  What  are  you  talking 
about !  Leave  me  to  tell  my  own  secrets,  pray!  " 

"  Secrets,  ma'am?  "  Shane's  cold  blue  eyes  glis- 
tened. "  Who's  talking  of  secrets?  " 

"  Nobody,"  offered  Hendricks.  "  Seems  to  me, 
Shane,  you're  trying  to  frighten  two  nervous  women 
into  a  confession " 

"Who  said  anything  about  a  confession  ?  What's 
to  be  confessed  ?  Who's  made  any  accusations  ?  " 

Hendricks  was  silent.  He  didn't  like  the  man 
Shane  at  all,  but  he  saw  plainly  that  he  was  a  mas- 
ter of  his  craft,  and  depended  on  his  sudden  and 
startling  suggestions  to  rouse  antagonism  or  fear 
and  so  gather  the  facts  he  desired. 

"  I'm  asking  nobody's  secrets,"  he  went  on,  "  ex- 


HAMLET  159 

ccpt  in  so  far  as  I'm  obliged  to,  by  reason  of  my 
duty.  And  in  that  connection,  ma'am,  I  ask  you 
right  here  and  now,  what  you  meant  by  your  refer- 
ence to  secrets?  " 

Eunice  looked  at  him  a  moment  in  silence.  Then 
she  said,  "  You  have,  I  daresay,  a  right  to  ask  that. 
And  I've  not  the  least  objection  to  answering.  Mr. 
Embury  was  the  kindest  of  husbands,  but  it  did  not 
suit  his  ideas  to  give  me  what  is  known  as  an  allow- 
ance. This  in  no  way  reflects  on  his  generosity,  for 
he  insisted  that  I  should  have  a  charge  account  at 
any  shops  I  wished.  But,  because  of  a  whim,  I  often 
begged  that  I  be  given  a  stated  and  periodical  allow- 
ance. This,  I  have  no  reason  for  not  admitting,  was 
the  cause  of  most  of  our  so-called  '  quarrels.'  This 
is  what  I  should  prefer  to  keep  '  secret '  but  not  if 
it  is  for  any  reason  a  necessary  admission." 

Shane  looked  at  her  in  undisguised  admiration. 

"  Fine !  "  he  ejaculated,  somewhat  cryptically. 
"  And  you  quarreled  about  this  last  night?  " 

"  Last  evening,  before  we  went  out." 

"  Not  after  you  came  home  ?  " 

"  No;  the  subject  was  not  then  mentioned." 

"  H'm.  And  you  two  were  as  friendly  as  ever  ? 
No  coolness — sorta  left  over,  like?  " 

"  No !  "  Eunice  spoke  haughtily,  but  the  crimson 


160  RASPBERRY  JAM 

flood  that  rose  to  her  cheeks  gave  the  lie  to 
her  words. 

Driscoll  came  in. 

"  I've  found  out  what  killed  Mr.  Embury,"  he 
said,  in  his  quiet  fashion. 

"  What  ?  "  cried  the  Examiner  and  Shane,  at 
the  same  time. 

"  Can't  tell  you — just  yet  I'll  have  to  go  out  on 
an  errand.  Stay  here — all  of  you — till  I  get  back." 

The  dapper  little  figure  disappeared  through  the 
hall  door,  and  Shane  turned  back  to  the  group  with 
a  grunt  of  satisfaction. 

"  That's  Driscoll,  all  over,"  he  said.  "  Put  him 
on  a  case,  and  he  don't  say  much,  and  he  don't  look 
like  he's  doing  anything,  and  then  all  in  a  minute 
he'll  bring  in  the  goods." 

"  I'd  be  glad  to  hear  the  cause  of  that  death," 
said  Dr.  Crowell,  musingly.  "  I'm  an  old,  experi- 
enced practitioner,  and  I've  never  seen  anything 
so  mysterious.  There's  absolutely  no  trace  of  any 
poison,  and  yet  it  can  be  nothing  else." 

"  Poison's  a  mighty  sly  proposition,"  observed 
Shane.  "  A  clever  poisoner  can  put  over  a 
big  thing." 

"  Perhaps  your  assumption  of  murder  is  prema- 
ture," said  Hendricks,  and  he  gave  Shane  a 
sharp  look. 


HAMLET  161 

"  Maybe,"  and  that  worthy  nodded  his  head. 
"  But  I'm  still  standing  pat.  Now,  here's  the  propo- 
sition. Three  people,  locked  into  a  suite — you  may 
say — of  three  rooms.  No  way  of  getting  in  from 
this  side — those  locks  are  heavy  brass  snap-catches 
that  can't  be  worked  from  outside.  No  way,  either, 
of  getting  in  at  the  windows.  Tenth-story  apart- 
ment, and  the  windows  look  straight  down  to  the 
ground,  no  balconies  or  anything  like  that.  Unless 
an  aryoplane  let  off  its  passengers,  nobody  could  get 
in  the  windows.  Well,  then,  we  have  those  three 
people  shut  up  alone  there  all  night.  In  the  morning 
one  of  'em  is  dead — poisoned.  What's  the  answer?  " 

He  stared  at  Eunice  as  he  talked.  It  was  quite 
evident  he  meant  to  frighten  her — almost  to 
accuse  her. 

But  with  her  strange  contradictoriness,  she 
smiled  at  him. 

"You  have  stated  a  problem,  Mr.  Shane,  to 
which  there  can  be  no  answer.  Therefore,  that  is 
not  the  problem  that  confronts  us." 

"  Fine  talk — fine  talk,  lady,  but  it  won't  get  you 
anywhere.  To  the  unbiased,  logical  mind,  the 
answer  must  be  that  it's  the  work  of  the  other 
two  people." 

"  Then  yours  is  not  a  logical  or  unbiased  mind," 
Hendricks  flared  out,  "  and  I  object  to  your  making 


162  RASPBERRY  JAM 

implications.  If  you  are  making  accusations,  do  so 
frankly,  and  let  us  know  where  we  stand!  If  not, 
shut  up !  " 

Shane  merely  looked  at  him,  without  resenting 
this  speech.  The  detective  appeared  to  be  marking 
time  as  he  awaited  the  return  of  his  partner. 

And  Driscoll  returned,  shortly.  His  manner  be- 
tokened success  in  his  quest,  whatever  it  may  have 
been,  and  yet  he  looked  distressed,  too. 

"  It's  a  queer  thing,"  he  said,  half  to  himself,  as 
he  fell  into  a  chair  Shane  pushed  toward  him.  "  Mrs. 
Embury,  do  you  keep  an  engagement  book  ?  " 

"  Why,  yes,"  replied  Eunice,  amazed  at  the 
question  put  to  her. 

"  Let  me  see  it,  please." 

Eunice  went  for  it,  and,  returning,  handed  the 
detective  a  finely  bound  volume. 

Hastily  he  ran  over  the  dates,  looking  at  notes 
of  parties,  concerts  and  theatres  she  had  attended 
recently.  At  last,  he  gave  a  start,  read  over  one 
entry  carefully,  and  closed  the  book. 

Abruptly,  then,  he  went  back  to  Embury's  room, 
asking  Dr.  Crowell  to  go  with  him. 

When  they  reappeared,  it  was  plain  to  be  seen 
the  mystery  was  solved. 

"  There  is  no  doubt,"  said  the  Medical  Exam- 
iner, "  that  Sanford  Embury  met  his  death  by  foul 


HAMLET  163 

play.  The  means  used  was  the  administering  of 
poison — through  the  ear !  " 

"  Through  the  ear !  "  repeated  Elliott,  as  one 
who  failed  to  grasp  the  sense  of  the  words. 

"  Yes ;  it  is  a  most  unusual,  almost  a  unique  case, 
but  it  is  proved  beyond  a  doubt.  The  poison  was 
inserted  in  Mr.  Embury's  ear,  by  means " 

He  paused,  and  Driscoll  held  up  to  view  a  small, 
ordinary  glass  medicine  dropper,  with  a  rubber  bulb 
top.  In  it  still  remained  a  portion  of  a  color- 
less liquid. 

"  By  means  of  this,"  Driscoll  declared.  "  This 
fluid  is  henbane — that  is  the  commercial  name  of  it — 
known  to  the  profession,  however,  as  hyoscyamus  or 
hyoscyamine.  This  little  implement,  I  found,  in  the 
medicine  chest  in  Miss  Ames'  bathroom " 

"  No !  no !  "  screamed  Aunt  Abby.  "  I  never 
saw  it  before !  " 

"  I  don't  think  you  did,"  said  Driscoll,  quietly. 
*'  But  here  is  a  side  light  on  the  subject.  This  hen- 
bane was  used,  in  this  very  manner,  we  are  told,  in 
Shakespeare's  works,  by  Hamlet's  uncle,  when  he 
poisoned  Hamlet's  father.  He  used,  the  play  says, 
distilled  hebenon,  supposed  to  be  another  form  of 
the  word  henbane.  And  this  is  what  is,  perhaps,  im- 
portant: Mrs.  Embury's  engagement  book  shows 
that  about  a  week  ago  she  attended  the  play  of  Ham- 


164  RASPBERRY  JAM 

let.  The  suggestion  there  received — the  presence  of 
this  dropper,  still  containing  the  stuff,  the  finding  of 
traces  of  henbane  in  the  ear  of  the  dead  man — seem 

to  lead  to  a  conclusion " 

"  The  only  possible  conclusion !  It's  an  open- 
and-shut  case ! "  cried  Shane,  rising,  and  striding 
toward  Eunice.  "  Mrs.  Embury,  I  arrest  you  for 
the  wilful  murder  of  your  husband !  " 


CHAPTER  X 

A  CONFESSION 

"  DON'T  you  dare  touch  me !  "  Eunice  Embury 
cried,  stepping  back  from  the  advancing  figure  of 
the  burly  detective.  "  Go  out  of  my  house — Ferdi- 
nand, put  this  person  out !  " 

The  butler  appeared  in  the  doorway,  but  Shane 
waved  a  dismissing  hand  at  him. 

"  No  use  blustering,  Mrs.  Embury,"  he  said, 
gruffly,  but  not  rudely.  "  You'd  better  come  along 
quietly,  than  to  make  such  a  fuss." 

"  I  shall  make  whatever  fuss  I  choose — and  I 
shall  not  '  come  along/  quietly  or  any  other  way ! 
I  am  not  intimidated  by  your  absurd  accusations,  and 
I  command  you  once  more  to  leave  my  house,  or  I 
will  have  you  thrown  out !  " 

Eunice's  eyes  blazed  with  anger,  her  voice  was 
not  loud,  but  was  tense  with  concentrated  rage,  and 
she  stood,  one  hand  clenching  a  chair-back  while 
with  the  other  she  pointed  toward  the  door. 

"  Be  quiet,  Eunice,"  said  Mason  Elliott,  coming 
toward  her;  "you  can't  dismiss  an  officer  of  the 
law  like  that.  But  you  can  demand  an  explanation. 
I  think,  Shane,  you  are  going  too  fast.  You  haven't 

165 


RASPBERRY  JAM 

evidence  enough  against  Mrs.  Embury  to  think  of 
arrest !  Explain  yourself !  " 

"  No  explanation  necessary.  She  killed  her  hus- 
band, and  she's  my  prisoner." 

"Hush  up,  Shane;  let  me  talk,"  interrupted 
Driscoll,  whose  calmer  tones  carried  more  authority 
than  those  of  his  rough  partner. 

"  It's  this  way,  Mr.  Elliott.  I'm  a  detective, 
and  I  saw  at  once,  that  if  the  doctors  couldn't  find 
the  cause  of  Mr.  Embury's  death,  it  must  be  a  most 
unusual  cause.  So  I  hunted  for  some  clue  or  some 
bit  of  evidence  pointing  to  the  manner  of  his  death. 
Well,  when  I  spied  that  little  medicine  dropper,  half 

full  of  something,  I  didn't  know  what,  but " 

Here  he  paused  impressively.  "  But  there  was  no 
bottle  or  vial  of  anything  in  the  cupboard,  from 
which  it  could  have  been  taken.  There  was  no  fluid 
in  there  that  looked  a  bit  like  the  stuff  in  the  dropper. 
So  I  thought  that  looked  suspicious — as  if  some  one 
had  hidden  it  there.  I  didn't  see  the  whole  game 
then,  but  I  went  around  to  a  druggist's  and  asked 
him  what  was  in  that  dropper.  And  he  said  hen- 
bane. He  further  explained  that  henbane  is  the 
common  name  for  hyoscyamin,  which  is  a  deadly 
poison.  Now,  the  doctors  were  pretty  sure  that  Mr. 
Embury  had  not  been  killed  by  anything  taken  into 
the  stomach,  so  I  thought  a  minute,  and,  like  a  flash, 


A  CONFESSION  167 

I  remembered  the  play  of  *  Hamlet '  that  I  saw 
last  week. 

"  I  guess  everybody  in  New  York  went  to  see 
it — the  house  was  crowded.  Anyway,  I've  proved 
by  Mrs.  Embury's  engagement  book  that  she  went — 
one  afternoon,  to  a  matinee — and  what  closer  or 
more  indicative  hint  do  you  want?  In  that  play, 
the  murder  is  fully  described,  and  though  many 
people  might  think  poison  could  not  be  introduced 
through  the  intact  ear  in  sufficient  quantity  to  be 
fatal,  yet  it  can  be — and  I  read  an  article  lately  in 
a  prominent  medical  journal  saying  so.  I  was  inter- 
ested, because  of  the  Hamlet  play.  If  I  hadn't 
seen  that,  I'd  never  thought  of  this  whole  business. 
But,  if  I'm  wrong,  let  Mrs.  Embury  explain  the 
presence  of  that  dropper  in  her  medicine  chest." 

"  I  don't  know  anything  about  the  thing !  I 
never  saw  or  heard  of  it  before !  I  don't  believe  you 
found  it  where  you  say  you  did ! "  Eunice  faced 
him  with  an  accusing  look.  "  You  put  it  there  your- 
self— it's  what  you  call  a  frame-up!  I  know  noth- 
ing of  your  old  dropper !  " 

"  There,  there,  lady/'  Shane  put  in ;  "  don't  get 
excited — it  only  counts  against  you.  Mr.  Driscoll, 
here,  wouldn't  have  no  reason  to  do  such  a  thing 
as  you  speak  of !  Why  would  he  do  that,  now  ?  " 

"  But  he  must  have  done  it,"  broke  in  Miss  Ames. 


168  RASPBERRY  JAM 

"  For  I  use  that  bathroom  of  Eunice's  and  that  thing 
hasn't  been  in  it,  since  I've  been  here." 

"  Of  course  not,"  and  Shane  looked  at  her  as  at 
a  foolish  child;  "  why  should  it  be?  The  lady  used 
it,  and  then  put  it  away." 

"  Hold  on,  there,  Shane,"  Hendricks  interrupted. 
"  Why  would  any  one  do  such  a  positively  incrim- 
inating thing  as  that?  " 

"  They  always  slip  up  somewhere,"  said  Dris- 
coll,  "  after  committing  a  crime,  your  criminal  is 
bound  to  do  something  careless,  that  gives  it  all 
away.  Mrs.  Embury,  how  did  that  dropper  get  in 
that  medicine  chest  in  your  bathroom?  " 

"  I  scorn  to  answer !  "  The  cold  tones  showed 
no  fear,  no  trepidation,  but  Eunice's  white  fingers 
interlaced  themselves  in  a  nervous  fashion. 

"  Do  you  know  anything  about  it,  Miss  Ames  ?  " 

"  N — no,"  stammered  Aunt  Abby,  trembling,  as 
she  looked  now  at  the  detectives  and  then  at  Eunice. 

"  Well,  it  couldn't  have  put  itself  there,"  went 
on  Driscoll.  "  Who  else  has  access  to  that  place  ?  " 

Eunice  gave  no  heed  to  this  speech.  She  gave 
no  heed  to  the  speaker,  but  stared  at  him,  unseeingly, 
her  gaze  seeming  to  go  straight  through  him. 

"  Why,  the  maid,"  said  Aunt  Abby,  with  a  help- 
less glance  toward  Elliott  and  Hendricks,  as  if  be- 
seeching assistance. 


A  CONFESSION  169 

"  The  servants  must  be  considered,"  said  Hen- 
dricks,  catching  at  a  straw.  "  They  may  know  some- 
thing that  will  help." 

"  Call  the  maid,"  said  Shane,  briefly,  and,  as 
neither  of  the  women  obeyed,  he  turned  to  Ferdi- 
nand, who  hovered  in  the  background,  and  thun- 
dered :  "  Bring  her  in — you !  " 

Maggie  appeared,  shaken  and  frightened,  but 
when  questioned,  she  answered  calmly  and  positively. 

"  I  put  that  dropper  in  the  medicine  closet,"  she 
said,  and  every  one  looked  toward  her. 

"  Where  did  you  get  it?  "  asked  Shane. 

"  I  found  it — on  the  floor." 

"On  the  floor?    Where?" 

"  Beside  Miss  Ames'  bed."  The  girl's  eyes  were 
cast  down;  she  looked  at  nobody,  but  gave  her 
answers  in  a  dull,  sing-song  way,  almost  as  if  she 
had  rehearsed  them  before. 

"When?" 

"  This  morning — when  I  made  up  her  room." 

"Had  you  ever  seen  it  before?" 

"  No,  sir." 

"  Why  did  you  think  it  belonged  to  Miss  A  mes  ?" 

"  I  didn't  think  anything  about  it.  I  found  it 
there,  and  I  supposed  it  belonged  to  Miss  Ames,  and 
I  put  it  away." 

"  Why  did  you  put  it  in  the  medicine  chest  ?  " 


170  RASPBERRY  JAM 

The  girl  looked  up,  surprised. 

"  That  seemed  to  me  the  proper  place  for  it. 
Whenever  I  find  a  bottle  of  camphor  or  a  jar  of 
cold  cream — or  anything  like  that — I  always  put  it 
in  the  medicine  chest.  That's  where  such  things 
belong.  So  I  thought  it  was  the  right  place  for  the 
little  dropper.  Did  I  do  wrong?  " 

"  No,  Maggie,"  Driscoll  said,  kindly,  "  that  was 
all  right.  Now  tell  us  exactly  where  you  found  it." 

"  I  did  tell  you.  On  the  floor,  just  beside  Miss 
Ames'  bed.  Near  the  head  of  the  bed." 

"  Well,  Miss  Ames — I  guess  it's  up  to  you. 
What  were  you  doing  with  this  thing?  " 

"  I  didn't  have  it  at  all !    I  never  saw  it  before !" 

"  Come,  come,  that  won't  do !  How  could  it 
get  there?" 

"  I  don't  know,  but  7  didn't  put  it  there."  The 
old  lady  trembled  pitifully,  and  looked  from  one  to 
another  for  help  or  guidance. 

"Of  course,  she  didn't !"  cried  Eunice.  "  You 
sha'n't  torment  my  aunt!  Cease  questioning  her! 
Talk  to  me  if  you  choose — and  as  you  choose — but 
leave  Miss  Ames  alone !  " 

She  faced  her  inquisitors  defiantly,  and  even 
Shane  quailed  a  little  before  her  scornful  eyes. 

"  Well,  ma'am,  as  you  see,  I  ain't  got  much 
choice  in  the  matter.  Here's  the  case.  You  and 


A  CONFESSION  171 

your  aunt  and  Mr.  Embury  was  shut  in  those  three 
rooms.  Nobody  else  could  get  in.  Come  morning, 
the  gentleman  is  dead — murdered.  One  of  you  two 
done  it.  It's  for  us  to  find  out  which — unless  the 
guilty  party  sees  fit  to  confess." 

"  I  do !  I  confess !  "  cried  Aunt  Abby.  "  I  did 
it,  and  I'm  willing  to  go  to  prison ! "  She  was 
clearly  hysterical,  and  though  her  words  were  posi- 
tive, they  by  no  means  carried  conviction. 

"  Now,  that's  all  bosh,"  declared  Shane.  "You're 
sayin'  that,  ma'am,  to  shield  your  niece.  You  know 
she's  the  murderer  and " 

Eunice  flew  at  Shane  like  a  wild  thing.  She 
grasped  his  arm  and  whirled  him  around  toward 
her  as  she  glared  into  his  face,  quivering  with 
indignation. 

"  Coward !  "  she  flung  at  him.  "  To  attack  two 
helpless  women — to  accuse  me — me,  of  crime! 
Why,  I  could  kill  you  where  you  stand — for  such 
an  insinuation ! " 

"  Say,  you're  some  tiger !  "  Shane  exclaimed, 
in  a  sort  of  grudging  admiration.  "  But  better  be 
careful  of  your  words,  ma'am !  If  you  could  kill  me 
—ah,  there ! " 

The  last  exclamation  was  brought  forth  by  the 
sudden  attack  of  Eunice,  as  she  shook  the  big  man 
so  violently  that  he  nearly  lost  his  balance. 


172  RASPBERRY  JAM 

"  Say,  you  wildcat !  Be  careful  whai  you  do ! 
You  are  a  tiger !  " 

"  Yes,"  Aunt  Abby  giggled,  nervously.  "  Mr. 
Embury  always  called  her  '  Tiger.' ' 

"  I  don't  wonder !  "  and  Shane  stared  at  Eunice, 
who  had  stepped  back  but  who  still  stood,  like  a  wild 
animal  at  bay,  her  eyes  darting  angry  fire. 

"  Now,  Mrs.  Embury,  let's  get  down  to  business. 
Who's  your  lawyer?  " 

"  I  am,"  declared  Alvord  Hendricks.  "  I  am 
her  counsel.  I  represent  Mrs.  Embury.  Eunice,  say 
nothing  more.  Leave  it  to  me.  And,  first,  Shane, 
you  haven't  enough  evidence  to  arrest  this  lady. 
That  dropper  thing  is  no  positive  information 
against  her.  It  might  be  the  work  of  the  servants 
— or  some  intruder.  The  story  of  that  housemaid  is 
not  necessarily  law  and  gospel.  Remember,  you'd 
get  in  pretty  bad  if  you  were  to  arrest  Mrs.  Sanford 
Embury  falsely!  And  my  influence  with  your 
superiors  is  not  entirely  negligible.  You're  doing 
your  duty,  all  right,  but  don't  overstep  your  author- 
ity— or,  rather,  don't  let  your  desire  to  make  a  sen- 
sational arrest  cloud  your  judgment." 

"That's  what  I  think,  Mr.  Hendricks,"  said 
Driscoll,  earnestly;  "we've  found  the  method,  but 
I'm  by  no  means  sure  we've  found  the  criminal. 
Leastways,  it  don't  look  sure  to  me.  Eh,  Shane  ?  " 


A  CONFESSION  178 

"Clear  enough  to  me,"  the  big  man  growled; 
but  he  was  quite  evidently  influenced  by  Hendricks' 
words.  "  However,  I'm  willing  to  wait — but  we 
must  put  Airs.  Embury  under  surveillance " 

"  Under  what !  "  demanded  Eunice,  her  beauti- 
ful face  again  contorted  by  uncontrollable  anger. 
"  I  will  not  be  watched  or  spied  upon!  " 

"  Hush,  Eunice,"  begged  Elliott.  "  Try  to  keep 
yourself  calm.  It  does  no  good  to  defy  these  men — 
they  are  not  really  acting  on  their  own  initiative, 
but  they  are  merely  carrying  out  their  duty  as 
they  see  it." 

"  Their  duty  is  to  find  out  who  killed  my  hus- 
band ! "  and  Eunice  gave  Shane  another  stormy 
glare.  "  They  cannot  do  that  by  accusing  two  in- 
nocent women ! " 

"If  you  two  women  can  be  proved  innocent,  no- 
body will  be  more  glad  than  me,"  Shane  announced, 
in  a  hearty  way,  that  was  really  generous  after 
Eunice's  treatment  of  him.  "  But  it  beats  me  to  see 
how  it  can  be  proved.  You  admit,  ma'am,  nobody 
could  get  into  Mr.  Embury's  room,  except  you  and 
Miss  Ames,  don't  you  ?  " 

"  I  don't  admit  that  at  all,  for  the  murderer  did 
gfet  in — and  did  commit  the  murder — therefore, 
there  must  be  some  means  of  access !  " 

"  Oho !    And  just  how  can  you  suggest  that  an 


174  RASPBERRY  JAM 

intruder  got  in,  and  got  out  again,  and  left  those 
doors  fastened  on  the  inside?  " 

"  That  I  don't  know — nor  is  it  my  business  to 
find  out." 

"  Maybe  you  think  a  flyin*  machine  came  at  the 
window,  ma'am!  For  nothin'  else  could  negotiate 
a  ten-story  apartment." 

"  Don't  talk  nonsense !  But  I  have  heard  of 
keys  that  unlock  doors  from  the  outside — skeleton 
keys,  I  think  they  are  called." 

"  Yes,  ma'am,  there  are  such,  sure !  But  they're 
keys — and  they  unlock  doors.  These  doors  of  yours 
have  strong  brass  catches  that  work  only  on  the 
inside,  snap-bolts,  they  are.  And  when  they're  fas- 
tened, nothing  from  the  other  side  of  the  door 
could  undo  'em.  But,  I  say — here  you,  Ferdinand !" 

The  butler  came  forward,  his  face  surprised 
rather  than  alarmed,  and  stood  at  attention. 

"  What  do  you  know  of  events  here  last  night?  " 
Shane  asked  him. 

"  Nothing,  sir,"  and  Ferdinand's  face  was 
blankly  respectful. 

"  You'd  better  tell  all  you  know,  or  you'll  get 
into  trouble." 

"  Could  you — could  you  make  your  question  a 
little  more  definite?" 


A  CO-NFESSION  175 

**  I  will.  When  Mr.  and  Mrs'  Embury  came 
home  last  night,  were  they  in  good  humor  ?  " 

"  I  don't  know,  sir." 

*'  You  do  know !  You  know  your  employers  well 
enough  to  judge  by  their  manner  whether  they  were 
at  odds  or  not.  Answer  me,  man !  " 

"  Well,  sir,  they  were,  I  should  judge,  a  little 
at  odds." 

"  Oh,  they  were !  In  what  way  did  they  show 
it?  By  quarreling?  " 

"  No,  sir." 

-How,  then?" 

**  By  not  saying  anything.  But  it's  not  uncom- 
mon for  them  to  be  at  odds,  sir " 

"  Speak  when  you're  spoken  to !  After  Mr.  Em- 
bury went  to  his  room,  did  you  attend  him  ?  " 

"  I  was  in  his  room,  yes." 

"  Mrs.  Embury  was  in  her  own  room  then?  " 

"  Yes." 

**  Her  outer  door  was  closed  ?  " 

"  Yes." 

"  And,  therefore,  fastened  by  the  snap-bolt?  " 

*  Yes,  I  suppose  so." 

"  Don't  you  know  so  ?  Don't  you  know  that  it 
must  have  been  ?  " 

"  Yes." 

"  And  then — then,  when  you  left  Mr.  Embury's 


176  RASPBERRY  JAM 

room — when  you  left  him  for  the  night — did  you 
close  his  door  ?  " 

"  I  did." 

"  And  that,  of  itself,  locked  that  door?  " 

"  Yes,  I  suppose  so." 

"  Stop  saying  you  suppose  so.  You  know  it  did ! 
You've  lived  in  this  house  two  years;  you  know  how 
those  doors  work — you  know  your  closing  that  door 
locked  it?  Didn't  it?" 

"  Yes,  it  did.  I  turned  the  knob  afterward  to 
make  sure.  I  always  do  that." 

Ferdinand  now  seemed  to  be  as  discursive  as  he 
was  reticent  before.  "  And  I  know  Miss  Eunice's — 
Mrs.  Embury's  door  was  locked,  because  she  had  to 
unbolt  it  before  I  could  get  in  this  morning." 

"  But  look  here,"  Driscoll  broke  in,  "  are  these 
doors  on  that  snap-bolt  all  day?  Isn't  that  rather 
an  inconvenience?  " 

"  Not  all  day,"  vouchsafed  Ferdinand.  "  They 
can  be  turned  so  the  bolt  doesn't  catch,  and  are 
turned  that  way  in  the  daytime,  usually." 

"  But,"  and  Driscoll  looked  at  him  intently,  "you 
can  swear  that  the  bolts  were  on  last  night  ?  " 

"  Yes,  sir " 

"  You  can't !  "  Hendricks  shot  at  him.  The  law- 
yer had  been  listening  in  silence,  but  he  now  refuted 


A  CONFESSION  177 

Ferdinand.  "  You  don't  know  that  Mrs.  Embury 
put  on  the  catch  of  her  door  when  she  closed  it." 

"  I  do,  sir;  I  heard  it  click." 

"You  are  very  observant,"  said  Shane;  "pe- 
culiarly so,  it  seems  to  me." 

"No,  sir,"  and  Ferdinand  looked  thoughtful; 
"but,  you  see,  it's  this  way.  Every  night  I  hear 
the  click  of  those  locks,  and  it  sort  of  seems  natural 
to  me  to  listen  for  it.  If  it  should  be  forgotten,  I'd 
think  it  my  duty  to  call  attention  to  it." 

"  A  most  careful  butler,  on  my  word!  "  Shane's 
tone  was  a  little  sneering. 

"  He  is,  indeed!  "  Eunice  defended;  "  and  I  can 
assert  that  it  is  because  of  his  faithfulness  and 
efficiency  that  we  have  always  felt  safe  at  night  from 
intrusion  by  marauders." 

"  And  you  did  lock  your  door  securely  last  night, 
Mrs.  Embury?  " 

"  I  most  assuredly  did !  I  do  every  night.  But 
that  does  not  prove  that  I  killed  my  husband.  Nor 
that  Miss  Ames  did." 

"  Then  your  theory " 

"  I  have  no  theory.  Mr.  Embury  was  killed — 
it  is  for  you  detectives  to  find  out  how.  But  do  not 
dare  to  say — or  imply — that  it  was  by  the  hand  of 
his  wife — or  his  relative!  " 

She  glanced  fondly  at  Miss  Ames,  and  then 

12 


178  RASPBERRY  JAM 

again  assumed  her  look  of  angry  defiance  toward 
the  two  men  who  were  accusing  her. 

"  It  is  for  you  to  find  out  how,"  said  Mason 
Elliott,  gravely.  "  It  is  incredible  that  Mrs.  Em- 
bury is  the  guilty  one,  though  I  admit  the  incrimi- 
nating appearance  of  the  henbane.  But  I've  been 
thinking  it  over,  and  while  Mr.  Driscoll's  surmise 
that  the  deed  can  possibly  be  traced  to  one  who 
recently  saw  the  play  of  '  Hamlet,'  yet  he  must  re- 
member that  thousands  of  people  saw  that  play, 
and  that  therefore  it  cannot  point  exclusively  toward 
Mrs.  Embury." 

"  That's  so,"  agreed  Driscoll.  "  Who  went  with 
you  to  the  play,  Mrs.  Embury?  " 

"  My  aunt,  Miss  Ames ;  also  a  friend,  Mrs.  Des- 
ternay.  And,  I  understand  you  went  yourself,  Mr. 
Driscoll.  Why  single  out  me  for  a  suspect  ?  " 

The  haughty  face  turned  to  him  was  quite 
severely  critical. 

"  True,  Mrs.  Embury,  why  should  I  ?  The  an- 
swer is,  motive.  You  must  admit  that  I  had  neither 
motive  nor  opportunity  to  kill  your  husband.  Mrs. 
Desternay,  let  us  say,  had  neither  opportunity  nor 
motive.  Miss  Ames  had  opportunity  but  no  motive. 
And  so  you,  we  must  all  admit,  are  the  only  human 
being  who  had  both  opportunity — and  motive." 

"  I  did  not  have  motive ! "  Eunice  flushed  back. 


A  CONFESSION  179 

"  You  talk  nonsense !  I  have  had  slight  differences 
of  opinion  with  my  husband  hundreds  of  time,  but 
that  is  not  a  motive  for  murder!  I  have  a  high 
temper,  and  at  times  I  am  unable  to  control  it  But 
that  does  not  mean  I  am  a  murderess !  " 

"  Not  necessarily,  but  it  gives  a  reason  for  sus- 
pecting you,  since  you  are  the  only  person  who  can 
reasonably  be  suspected." 

"  But  hold  on,  Driscoll,  don't  go  too  fast,"  said 
Mason  Elliott ;  "  there  may  be  other  people  who  had 
motives.  Remember  Sanford  Embury  was  a  man  of 
wide  public  interests  outside  of  his  family  affairs. 
Suppose  you  turn  your  attention  to  that  sort 
of  thing." 

"  Gladly,  Mr.  Elliott;  but  when  we've  proved  no 
outsider  could  get  into  Mr.  Embury's  room,  why 
look  for  outside  motives?" 

"  It  seems  only  fair,  to  my  mind,  that  such 
motives  should  be  looked  into.  Now,  for  instance, 
Embury  was  candidate  in  a  hotly  contested  com- 
ing election " 

"  That's  so,"  cried  Hendricks ;  "  look  for  your 
murderer  in  some  such  connection  as  that." 

"  Election  to  what?  "  growled  Shane. 

"  President  of  the  Metropolitan  Athletic  Club — 
a  big  organization " 

"  H'm !    Who's  the  opposing  candidate  ?  " 


180  RASPBERRY  JAM 

"  I  am,"  replied  Hendricks,  quietly. 

"You!  Well,  Mr.  Hendricks,  where  were  you 
last  night,  when  this  man  was  killed?  " 

"  In  Boston."  Hendricks  did  not  smile,  but  he 
looked  as  if  the  question  annoyed  him. 

"  You  can  prove  that?  " 

"  Yes,  of  course.  I  stayed  at  the  Touraine,  was 
with  friends  till  well  after  midnight,  and  took  the 
seven  o'clock  train  this  morning  for  New  York,  in 
company  with  the  same  men.  You  can  look  up  all 
that,  at  your  leisure;  but  there  is  a  point  in  what 
Mr.  Elliott  says.  I  can't  think  that  any  of  the  club 
members  would  be  so  keen  over  the  election  as  to  do 
away  with  one  of  the  candidates,  but  there's  the  situ- 
ation. Go  to  it." 

"  It  leaves  something  to  be  looked  into,  at  any 
rate,"  mused  Shane. 

"Why  didn't  you  think  of  it  for  yourself?" 
said  Hendricks,  rather  scathingly.  "  It  seems  to  me 
a  detective  ought  to  look  a  little  beyond  his  nose!  " 

"  I  can't  think  we've  got  to,  in  this  case,"  Shane 
persisted;  "  but  I'm  willing  to  try.  Also,  Mrs.  Em- 
bury, I'll  ask  you  for  the  address  of  the  lady  who 
went  with  you  to  see  that  play." 

"  Certainly,"  said  Eunice,  in  a  cold  voice,  and 
gave  the  address  desired. 

"  And,  now,  we'll  move  on,"  said  Shane,  rising. 


A  CONFESSION  181 

"  You  ain't  under  arrest,  Mrs.  Embury — not  yet — 
but  I  advise  you  not  to  try  to  leave  this  house 
without  permission " 

"  Indeed,  I  shall !  Whenever  and  as  often  as  I 
choose !  The  idea  of  your  forbidding  me !  " 

"  Hush,  Eunice,"  said  Hendricks.  "  She  will 
not,  Mr.  Shane;  I'm  her  guaranty  for  that.  Don't 
apprehend  any  insubordination  on  the  part  of 
Mrs.  Embury." 

"Not  if  she  knows  what's  good  for  herself!" 
was  Shane's  parting  shot,  and  the  two  detectives 
went  away. 


CHAPTER  XI 

FIFI 

OH,  yes,  indeed,  Mr.  Shane,  Mrs.  Embury  is 
a  dear  friend  of  mine — a  very,  very  dear  friend — 
and  I'd  so  gladly  go  to  see  her — and  comfort  her — 
console  with  her — and  try  to  cheer  her  up — but — 
well,  I  asked  her  last  night,  over  the  telephone,  to 
let  me  go  to  see  her  to-day — and — she — she " 

Mrs.  Desternay's  pretty  blue  eyes  filled  with 
tears,  and  her  pretty  lips  quivered,  and  she  dabbed 
a  sheer  little  handkerchief  here  and  there  on  her 
countenance.  Then  she  took  up  her  babbling  again. 

"  Oh,  I  don't  mean  she  was  unfriendly  or — or 
cross,  you  know — but  she  was  a  little — well,  curt, 
almost — I  might  say,  cool.  And  I'm  one  of  her  dear- 
est friends — and  I  can't  quite  understand  it." 

"  Perhaps  you  must  make  allowances  for  Mrs. 
Embury,"  Shane  suggested.  "  Remember  the  sud- 
den and  mysterious  death  of  her  husband  must  have 
been  a  fearful  shock " 

"  Oh,  terrible !    Yes,  indeed,  I  do  appreciate  all 

that !    And  of  course  when  I  telephoned  last  evening, 

she  had  just  had  that  long  interview  with  you — and 

your  other  detective,  Mr.  what's-his-name — and — 

182 


FIFI  183 

oh,  yes,  Mr.  Elliott  answered  my  call  and  he  told 
me  just  how  things  were — but  I  did  think  dear 
Eunice  would  want  to  see  me — but  it's  all  right — of 
course,  if  she  doesn't  want  my  sympathy.  I'm  the 
last  one  to  intrude  on  her  grief!  But  she  has  no 
one — no  one  at  all — except  that  old  aunt,  who's  half 
foolish,  I  think " 

"  What  do  you  mean,  half  foolish?  " 

"  Oh,  she's  hipped  over  those  psychic  studies  of 
hers,  and  she's  all  wrapped  up  in  Spiritualism  and 
occult  thingamajigs — I  don't  know  what  you 
call  'em." 

"  She  seems  to  me  a  very  sane  and  prac- 
tical lady " 

"  In  most  ways — yes;  but  crazy  on  the  subject 
of  spooks,  and  mediums  and  things  like  that!  Oh, 
Mr.  Shane,  who  do  you  suppose  killed  Mr.  Embury  ? 
How  awful !  To  have  a  real  murder  right  in  one's 
own  circle  of  acquaintances — I  had  almost  said 
friends — but  dear  Eunice  doesn't  seem  to  look  on 
me  as  her  friend " 

The  blue  eyes  made  a  bid  for  sympathy,  and 
Shane,  though  not  always  at  ease  in  the  presence  of 
society  ladies,  met  her  half  way. 

"  Now,  that's  a  pity,  Mrs.  Desternay!  I'm  sure 
you'd  be  the  greatest  help  to  her  in  her  trouble." 

Fifi  Desternay  raised  her  hands  and  let  them 


184  RASPBERRY  JAM 

fall  with  a  pretty  little  gesture  of  helplessness.  She 
was  a  slip  of  a  thing,  and — it  was  the  morning  of 
the  day  after  the  Embury  tragedy — she  was  garbed 
in  a  scant  but  becoming  negligee,  and  had  received 
the  detective  in  her  morning  room,  where  she  sat, 
tucked  into  the  corner  of  a  great  davenport  sofa, 
smoking  cigarettes. 

Her  little  face  was  delicately  made  up,  and  her 
soft,  fair  hair  was  in  blobs  over  her  ears.  For  the 
rest,  the  effect  was  mostly  a  rather  low  V'd  neck 
and  somewhat  evident  silk  stockings  and  berib- 
boned  mules. 

She  continually  pulled  her  narrow  satin  gown 
about  her,  and  it  as  continually  slipped  away  from 
her  lace  petticoat,  as  she  crossed  and  recrossed  her 
silken  legs. 

She  was  entirely  unself-conscious,  and  yet,  the 
detective  felt  instinctively  that  she  carefully  meas- 
ured every  one  of  the  words  she  so  carelessly  uttered. 

"  Well,  Mr.  Shane,"  she  said,  suddenly,  "  we're 
not  getting  anywhere.  Just  exactly  what  did  you 
come  here  for?  What  do  you  want  of  me?  " 

The  detective  was  grateful  for  this  assistance. 

"  I  came,"  he  stated,  without  hesitation,  "  to  ask 
you  about  the  circumstances  of  the  party  which  Mrs. 
Embury  attended  here  night  before  last,  the  night 
her  husband — died." 


FIFI  185 

"Oh,  yes;  let  me  see — there  isn't  much  to  tell. 
Eunice  Embury  spent  the  evening  here — we  had  a 
game  of  cards — and,  before  supper  was  served,  Mr. 
Embury  called  for  her  and  took  her  home — in  their 
car.  That's  all  7  know  about  it." 

"  What  was  the  card  game  ?  " 

"  Bridge." 

"For  high  stakes?" 

"Oh,  mercy,  no!  We  never  really  gamble!" 
The  fluttering  little  hands  deprecated  the  very  idea. 
"  We  have  just  a  tiny  stake — to — why,  only  to  make 
us  play  a  better  game.  It  does,  you  know." 

"Yes'm.  And  what  do  you  call  a  tiny  stake? 
Opinions  differ,  you  know." 

"And  so  do  stakes! "  The  blue  eyes  flashed  a 
warning.  "Of  course,  we  don't  always  play  for 
the  same.  Indeed,  the  sum  may  differ  at  the  various 
tables.  Are  you  prying  into  my  private  affairs  ?  " 

"  Only  so  far  as  I'm  obliged  to,  ma'am.  Never 
mind  the  bridge  for  the  moment.  Was  Mr.  Embury 
annoyed  with  his  wife — for  any  reason — when  he 
called  to  take  her  home  ?  " 

"  Now,  how  should  I  know  that?  "  a  pretty  look 
of  perplexity  came  into  the  blue  eyes.  "  I'm  not 
a  mind  reader !  " 

"  You're  a  woman !    Was  Mr.  Embury  put  out  ?" 

Fifi  laughed  a  ringing  peal.     "  Was  he  ?  "  she 


186  RASPBERRY  JAM 

cried,  as  if  suddenly  deciding  to  tell  the  truth.  "  I 
should  say  he  was!  Why,  he  was  so  mad  I  was 
positively  afraid  of  him !  " 

"What  did  he  say?" 

"  That's  just  it!  He  didn't  say  anything!  Oh, 
he  spoke  to  me  pleasantly — he  was  polite,  and  all 
that,  but  I  could  see  that  he  was  simply  boil- 
ing underneath !  " 

"  You  are  a  mind  reader,  then!  " 

"  I  didn't  have  to  be,  to  see  that! "  The  little 
figure  rocked  back  and  forth  on  the  sofa,  as,  with 
arms  clasped  round  one  knee,  Fifi  gave  way  to  a 
dramatic  reconstruction  of  the  scene. 

"  '  Come,  Eunice/  he  said,  just  like  that!  And 
you  bet  Eunice  went !  " 

"  Was  she  angry,  too  ?  " 

"  Rather !  Oh,  you  know  her  temper  is  some- 
thing fierce !  When  she's  roused,  she's  like  a  roaring 
lion  and  a  raging  bear — as  it  says  in  the  Bible — 
or  Shakespeare,  or  somewhere.'" 

"  Speaking  of  Shakespeare,  you  and  Mrs.  Em- 
bury went  to  see  *  Hamlet '  recently,  I  believe." 

"  Oh,  yes ;  when  the  Avon  Players  put  it  on. 
Everybody  went.  Didn't  you?  You  missed  it,  if 
you  didn't !  Most  marvelous  performance.  '  Mac- 
beth/ too.  That  was  perfectly  darling !  I  went  to 
that  with " 


FIFI  187 

"  Excuse  me.  As  to  '  Hamlet/  now.  Did  you 
notice  particularly  tlie  speech  about  the  poison- 
ing of " 

"  Of  Hamlet's  father !  I  should  say  I  did !  Why, 
that  speech  by  Mr.  Postlethwaite — he  was  '  The 
Ghost/  you  know — was  stunning,  as  much  ap- 
plauded as  the  '  Soliloquy '  itself !  He  fairly  made 
you  see  that  poisoning  scene!  " 

"  Was  Mrs.  Embury  interested  ?  " 

"  Oh,  we  both  were !  We  were  at  school  to- 
gether, and  we  both  loved  Shakespeare — we  took  it 
*  Special.'  And  we  were  terribly  interested  in  the 
Avon  Players'  '  Hamlet ' — it  was  unlike  any  repre- 
sentation we  had  ever  seen." 

"  Ah — yes ;  and  did  you — you  and  Mrs.  Embury 
— discuss  the  poison  used  by  the  wicked  uncle?  " 

"  Not  lately.  But  in  class  we  discussed  that — 
years  ago — oh,  that's  one  of  the  regulation  Shake- 
spearean puzzles.  You  can't  trip  us  up  on  our 
Shakespeare — either  of  us!  I  doubt  if  you  can  find 
two  frivolous  society  women  who  know  it  better 
than  we  do !  " 

"  Did  you  know  that  Mr.  Embury  was  killed 
in  a  manner  identical  with  the  Hamlet  murder?  " 

"No!  What  do  you  mean?  I've  really  not 
heard  the  details.  As  soon  as  I  heard  of  his  death, 
I  called  up  Eunice,  but,  as  I  said,  she  wasn't  cordial 


188  RASPBERRY  JAM 

at  all.  Then  I  was  busy  with  my  own  guests  after 
that — last  night  and  this  morning — well,  I'm  really 
hardly  awake  yet !  " 

I  Fifi  rubbed  her  eyes  with  the  back  of  her  hand — 
a  childish  gesture,  and  daintily  smothered  a 
slight  yawn. 

"  But  I'm  awfully  interested,"  she  went  on, 
"  only — only  I  can't  bear  to  hear  about — a — mur- 
der! The  details,  I  mean.  I  should  think  Eunice 
would  go  crazy !  I  should  think  she'd  be  glad  to  come 
here — I  was  going  to  ask  her,  when  she  called  me 
down!  But,  what  do  you  mean — killed  like  Ham- 
let's father?  " 

"  Yes ;  there  was  poison  introduced  into  his  ear — 
as  Mr.  Embury  slept " 

"  Really !  How  tragic ;  How  terrible !  Who 
did  it?" 

"  That's  what  we're  trying  to  discover.  Could — 
do  you  think  Mrs.  Embury  could  have  had  suf- 
ficient motive " 

"Eunice!"  Fifi  screamed.  "What  an  idea! 
Eunice  Embury  to  kill  her  own  husband !  Oh,  no !  " 

"  But  only  she  and  that  aunt  of  hers  had  oppor- 
tunity. You  know  how  their  bedrooms  are?" 

"  Oh,  yes,  I  know.  Miss  Ames  is  using  Eunice's 
dressing-room — and  a  nuisance  it  is,  too." 

"  Then  you  know  that  at  night  those  three  bed- 


FIFI  189 

rooms  are  shut  off  from  the  rest  of  the  house  by 
strong  bolts  on  the  inside  of  the  doors." 

"  Yes,  I  know." 

"  Then,  don't  you  see,  as  Mr.  Embury  was  killed 
— the  doctors  say  about  daybreak,  or  earlier — no- 
body could  have  done  it  except  somebody  who  was 
.behind  those  locked  doors." 

"The  windows?  " 

"  Tenth  story,  and  no  balconies.  And,  too,  they 
'all  have  flower-boxes,  except  one,  and  the  flowers 
were  undisturbed.  The  one  that  hasn't  a  flower- 
box  is  on  the  side  street,  in  Miss  Ames'  room.  And 
that — I  looked  out  myself — has  no  balcony,  nor 
even  a  broad  ledge.  It  couldn't  be  reached  from  the 
next  apartment — if  that's  what  you're  thinking  of." 

"  I'm  not  thinking  of  anything,"  returned  Fifi. 
"  I'm  too  dazed  to  think !  Eunice  Embury !  Do  you 
mean  she  is  really  suspected  ?  " 

"  I  mean  that,  very  decidedly,  ma'am.  And  I 
am  here  to  ask  you  if  you  can  give  any  additional 
evidence,  any " 

"  Any  evidence !  Evidence  against  my  dear 
friend!  Why,  man,  if  I  knew  anything,  I  wouldn't 
tell  it,  if  it  would  go  against  Eunice !  " 

"  Oh,  yes,  you  would ;  the  law  would  force  you 
to.  But  do  you  know  anything  definite  ?  " 

"  No,  of  course,  I  don't !   I  know1  that  Mr.  and 


190  RASPBERRY  JAM 

Mrs.  Embury  were  not  always  cooing  like  turtle- 
doves! She  had  the  devil's  own  temper — and  he 
wasn't  much  better!  I  know  he  drove  her  frantic 
because  he  wouldn't  give  her  some  privileges  she 
wanted — wouldn't  allow  her  certain  latitudes,  and 
was  generally  pretty  dictatorial.  I  know  Eunice 
resented  this,  and  I  know  that  lots  of  times  she  was 
pretty  nearly  at  the  end  of  her  rope,  and  she  said 
all  sorts  of  things — that,  of  course,  she  didn't  mean 
— but  she  wouldn't  kill  him !  Oh,  I  don't  think  she 
would  do  that !  " 

"  H'm !  So  they  lived  like  cats  and  dogs, 
did  they?" 

"  What  an  awful  way  to  put  it !  But,  well,  San- 
ford  didn't  make  Eunice's  life  a  bed  of  roses — nor 
did  she  go  out  of  her  way  to  please  him !  " 

"  Mr.  Embury  was  often  a  guest  here?  " 

"  He  was  not !  Eunice  came  here,  against  his 
will — against  his  expressed  commands." 

"  Oho !  She  did !  And  her  visit  here  night  be- 
fore last — that  was  an  act  of  insubordination?  " 

"  It  was !  I  wouldn't  tell  this — but  it's  sure  to 
come  out.  Yes,  he  had  especially  and  positively 
forbidden  her  to  come  to  that  party  here,  and  after 
he  went  to  his  club — Eunice  ran  away  from  home 
and  came.  Naughty  girl!  She  told  us  she  had 
played  hookey,  when  she  first  came  in !  But,  good 


FIFI  191 

gracious,  Mr.  Shane,  that  was  no  crime!  In  this 
day  and  generation  a  wife  may  disobey  her  husband 
— and  get  away  with  it !  " 

The  arch  little  face  smiled  saucily,  and  Fifi  cud- 
dled into  her  corner,  and  again  fell  a-thinking. 

"  I  can't  believe  you  really  mean  you  think 
Eunice  did  it !  "  she  broke  out.  "  Why,  what  are 
you  going  to  do?  Arrest  her?  " 

"  Not  quite.  Although  she  is  under  strict 
surveillance  at  present." 

"  What !    Can't  she  go  out,  if  she  likes  ?  " 

"  No." 

"  How  perfectly  absurd !  Oh,  I've  a  notion  to 
telephone  and  ask  her  to  go  for  a  drive.  What  fun !  " 

Shane  looked  at  the  mischievous  face  in  astonish- 
ment. He  was  experienced  in  human  nature,  but 
this  shallow,  frivolous  attitude  toward  a  tragedy  was 
new  to  him. 

"  I  thought  you  and  Mrs.  Embury  were  friends," 
he  said,  reprovingly. 

"  Oh,  we  are — or  rather,  we  were.  I'm  not  sure 
I  can  know  her — after  this!  But,  you  see,  I  can't 
take  it  seriously.  I  can't  really  believe  you  mean 
that  you  think  Eunice — guilty!  Why,  I'd  a  thou- 
sand times  rather  suspect  the  old  aunt  person !  " 

"  You  would !  "  Shane  spoke  eagerly.  "  Could 
that  be  possible  ?  " 


192  RASPBERRY  JAM 

"  It  could  be  possible  this  way,"  Fifi  was  serious 
now.  "  You  see,  Miss  Ames  adores  Eunice.  She 
found  it  hard  to  forgive  San  ford  for  his  tyrannical 
ways — and  they  were  tyrannical.  And  Miss  Ames 
might  have,  by  way  of  ridding  Eunice  from  a  cruel 
husband — might  have — oh,  I  can't  say  it — it  sounds 
too  absurd !  But,  after  all,  it's  no  more  absurd  than 
to  suspect  Eunice.  Why  don't  you  look  for  some- 
body else  ?  " 

"  How  could  anybody  get  in?  " 

"  I  know,"  impatiently;  "  but  I've  read  detective 
stories,  and  'most  always,  the  murder  is  committed 
in  what  they  call  '  a  hermetically  sealed  room,'  and 
yet  somebody  did  get  in !  " 

"  There's  no  such  thing  as  a  hermetically  sealed 
room!  Don't  you  know  what  hermetically  sealed 
means?  " 

"  Yes,  of  course  I  do,  literally.  But  that  phrase 
is  used — in  detective  stories,  to  mean  an  inaccessible 
room.  Or  a  seemingly  inaccessible  one.  But  always 
it  comes  out  that  it  could  be  entered." 

"  That's  all  very  well  in  fiction,  ma'am ;  but  it 
won't  work  in  this  case.  Why,  I  looked  over  those 
door  locks  myself.  Nobody  could  get  in." 

"  Well,  leaving  aside  the  way  they  got  in,  let's 
see  whom  we  can  suspect.  There's  two  men  that  I 
know  of  who  are  dead  in  love  with  Mrs.  Embury — 


FIFI  193 

and  I  daresay  there  are  a  lot  more,  who  can  see  a 
silver  lining  in  this  cloud !  " 

"  What — what  do  you  mean?  " 

Shane  was  fascinated  by  the  lovely  personality 
of  Mrs.  Desternay,  and  he  began  to  think  that  she 
might  be  of  some  real  help  to  him.  Though  a  skilled 
detective,  he  was  of  the  plodding  sort,  and  never 
had  brilliant  or  even  original  ideas.  He  had  had  a 
notion  it  would  have  been  better  to  send  Driscoll  on 
this  errand  he  was  himself  attempting,  but  a  touch 
of  jealousy  of  the  younger  and  more  quick-witted 
man  made  him  determine  to  attend  to  Mrs.  Des- 
ternay himself. 

"  Well,  Mr.  Stupid,  if  you  were  in  the  presence  of 
Mrs.  Embury  and  Mr.  Elliott  and  Mr.  Hendricks, 
— as  you  said  you  were — and  didn't  size  up  how 
matters  stand  with  those  two  men,  you  are  a  queer 
sort  of  detective!  " 

Her  light  laughter  rippled  pleasantly,  and  Shane 
forgave  her  reproof  by  reason  of  her  charm. 

"  Both  of  them  ?  "  he  said,  helplessly. 

"  Yes,  sir,  both  of  them !  "  She  mimicked  his 
tone.  "  You  see,  Mr.  Shane,  it's  an  old  romance, 
all  'round.  When  Eunice  Ames  was  a  girl,  three 
men  fought  for  her  hand,  the  two  we've  just  men- 
tioned, and  Mr.  Embury,  who  was  the  successful 
suitor.  And  he  succeeded  only  by  sheer  force  of 
13 


194-  RASPBERRY  JAM 

will.  He  practically  stole  her  from  the  other  two 
and  married  her  out  of  hand." 

"  I  suppose  the  lady  agreed?  " 

"  Of  course,  but  it  was  a  marriage  in  haste,  and 
— I  imagine  that  it  was  followed  by  the  proverb- 
ial consequences." 

"  What  do  you  mean  ? "  asked  the  dull-wit- 
ted Shane. 

"  That  they  repented  at  leisure.  At  least,  Eunice 
did — I  don't  believe  Sanford  ever  regretted." 

"  But  those  two  men  are  Embury's  friends." 

"Sure  they,  are!  Oh,  friend  Shane,  were  you 
born  yesterday?  I  thought  detectives  were  a  little 
more  up-to-date  than  that!  Of  course,  they're  all 
friends,  always  have  been,  since  they  made  mudpies 
together  in  their  Boston  backyards." 

"  Did  you  belong  to  that  childish  group  ?  " 

"Me?  Lord,  no!  I'm  Simon  Pure  Middle 
West!  And  I  glory  in  it!  I'd  hate  to  be  of  New 
England  descent — you  have  to  live  up  to  traditions 
and  things !  I'm  a  law  unto  myself,  when  it  comes 
to  life  and  living!  " 

"  And  you  met  Mrs.  Embury  ?  " 

"  At  boarding-school.  We  spent  four  years  to- 
gether— chums,  and  all  that.  Then  after  we  were 
both  married,  we  drifted  together  again,  here  in  New 


FIFI  195 

York — and  somehow  Eunice's  husband  didn't  take 
to  poor  little  Fifi  one  bit !  I  wonder  why !  " 

Her  look  of  injured  innocence  was  charming, 
and  Shane  had  to  make  an  effort  to  keep  to  the  sub- 
ject in  hand. 

"  So  those  two  men  admire  Mrs.  Embury  ?  " 

"  Admire  is  a  silly  word !  They  adore  her — they 
worship  the  ground  she  walks  on!  They  are,  no 
doubt,  decently  decorous  at  the  passing  of  their  old 
friend,  but  as  soon  as  the  funeral  baked  meats  are 
cold  enough,  look  out  for  a  marriage  table  on  which 
to  serve  them !  " 

"  Did — did  Mr.  Embury  realize  that  his  friends 
so  admired  his  wife?  " 

"  Probably.  Yes,  of  course,  he  did.  But  he 
didn't  care.  She  was  his — she  gave  them  no  encour- 
agement— such  things  aren't  done — "  Fifi's  eyes 
rolled  upward — "  and,  I  only  tell  you,  to  show  you 
that  there  are,  at  least,  other  directions  in  which 
to  look!" 

"  But — let  me  see — Mr.  Hendricks  was  in  Bos- 
ton at  the  time  of  Mr.  Embury's  death." 

"Then  that  lets  him  out.  And  Mr.  Elliott? 
Where  was  he  ?  " 

"  I  haven't  made  definite  inquiry.  Prob- 
ably he " 

"  Probably  he  has  an  alibi !  Oh,  yes,  of  course  he 


196  RASPBERRY  JAM 

has!  And  if  he  killed  Sanford  Embury,  he's  more 
likely  than  ever  to  have  a  fine  alibi!  Look  here, 
Mr.  Shane,  I  believe  I  could  give  you  cards  and 
spades  and  beat  you  at  your  little  detective  games !  " 

"  You  mix  me  all  up,  with  your  ridiculous  sug- 
gestions !  "  Shane  tried  to  speak  sternly,  but  was 
forced  to  smile  at  the  roguish,  laughing  face  that 
mocked  him. 

"  All  right,  play  your  own  game.  I  tried  to  help, 
by  suggesting  more  suspects — in  a  multitude  of  sus- 
pects there  is  safety — for  our  dear  Eunice !  And  she 
never  did  it !  If  you  can't  contrive  a  way  for  either 
of  those  two  men  to  get  through  those  bolted  doors, 
then  turn  your  eagle  eyes  toward  Aunt  Abby !  She's 
a  queer  Dick — if  you  ask  me,  and  Eunice  Embury — 
well,  I  admit  I  resent  her  coolness  last  night,  but  I 
freely  own  up  that  I  think  her  incapable  of  such 
a  crime." 

"  But  you  two  discussed  the  poisoning  business 
in  the  play " 

"  We  did.  But  we  discussed  lots  of  other  points 
about  that  play  and  compared  it  with  other  presenta- 
tions we  have  seen,  and,  oh,  you're  too  absurd  to 
hang  a  murder  on  that  woman,  just  because  she  saw 
a  murder  on  the  stage — or  rather  heard  the  descrip- 
tion of  one !  " 

"  But  that's  the  coincidence !    She  did  hear  that 


197 

murder  described  fully.  She  did  talk  it  over  with 
you.  She  did  show  a  special  interest  in  it.  Then, 
a  week  or  so  later,  her  husband  is  killed  by  identi- 
cally the  same  method.  She,  and  she  alone — except 
for  a  mild  old  lady — has  opportunity  to  do  the  deed ; 
the  instrument  of  death  is  found  in  her  cupboard; 
and  she  flies  into  a  rage  at  the  first  hint  of  accusation, 
of  the  crime!  By  the  way,  if  as  you  hint,  one  of 
those  men  did  it,  would  they  leave  the  medicine 
dropper  that  conveyed  the  poison,  in  Mrs.  Embury's 
rooms.  Would  they  want  to  bring  suspicion  against 
the  woman  they  love  ?  Answer  me  that  ?  " 

"  There  might  be  another  solution,"  Fifi  nodded 
her  wise  little  head  thoughtfully.  "  Perhaps  whoever 
did  it,  tried  to  throw  suspicion  on  Miss  Ames." 

"  That  makes  him  a  still  more  despicable  villain. 
To  implicate  falsely  a  harmless  old  lady — no,  I  can't 
think  that." 

"  Yet  you  think  Mrs.  Embury  did !  " 

"  I  don't  know.  Perhaps  the  two  women  worked 
in  collusion.  Or  Miss  Ames  might  have  wakened 
and  learned  the  truth,  and  agreed  to  keep  the  secret. 
In  fact,  Miss  Ames  confessed  that  she  did  the  mur- 
der, but  we  know  she  was  not  telling  the  truth  then. 
However,  she  knows  who  did  do  it — I've  no  doubt 
of  that.  Well,  Mrs.  Desternay,  I  can't  subscribe  to 
your  original,  if  rather  impossible,  suggestions,  but 


198  RASPBERRY  JAM 

I  thank  you  for  this  interview,  and  I  may  say  you 
have  helped  me." 

"  I  have  ?    How  ?    Not  against  Eunice  ?  " 
"  Never  mind,  ma'am.    I  must  get  off  by  myself, 
and  straighten  out  my  notes,  and  see  where  I  stand. 
Are  you  going  to  telephone  to  Mrs.  Embury  again  ?" 
"  No ! "  and  the  little  head  was  tossed  proudly. 
"If  she  wants  me,  let  her  call  me  up.    I  did  my  part, 
now  I'll  subside.     And,  too — if  she  is — is — oh,  I 
can't  say  it !    But  I'll  wait  further  developments  be- 
fore  I   decide  just  where  I   stand   in  regard  to 
Eunice  Embury !  " 


CHAPTER  XII 

IN  HANLON'S  OFFICE 

IN  an  office  building,  away  downtown,  a  little 
old  lady  stood  in  the  lobby  studying  the  great  bulletin 
board  of  room  numbers. 

"Can  I  help  you,  ma'am?"  asked  the  elevator 
starter,  seeing  her  perplexity. 

"  I  want  Sykes  and  Barton,  Scenic  Sign 
Painters,"  she  said,  positively  enough ;  "  but  there 
are  so  many  S's,  I  can't  seem  to  find  them !  " 

"  All  right,  ma'am ;  here  they  are.  Sixth  floor, 
Room  614." 

"  Thank  you,"  the  old  lady  said,  and  entered  the 
elevator  he  indicated. 

She  seemed  preoccupied,  and  made  no  move  to 
leave  the  car,  until  the  elevator  man  spoke  to 
her  twice. 

"  This  is  the  floor  you  want,  lady,"  he  said. 
"  Room  614.  That  way,  just  round  that  first  corner." 

Miss  Ames  started  off  in  the  way  he  pointed,  and 
stood  for  a  moment  in  front  of  the  door  num- 
bered 614. 

Then,  with  a  determined  shake  of  her  thin 
shoulders,  she  opened  the  door  and  walked  in. 

199 


200  RASPBERRY  JAM 

"  I  want  to  see  Mr.  Hanlon,"  she  said  to  the  girl 
at  the  first  desk. 

"  By  appointment  ?  " 

"  No;  but  say  it  is  Miss  Ames — he'll  see  me." 

"  Why,  Miss  Ames,  how  do  you  do  ?  "  and  the 
man  who  had  so  interested  the  beholders  of  his  feat 
in  Newark  came  forward  to  greet  her.  "  Come 
right  into  my  office,"  and  he  led  her  to  an  inner 
room.  "  Now,  what's  it  all  about?  " 

The  cheery  reception  set  his  visitor  at  ease,  and 
she  drew  a  long  breath  of  relief  as  she  settled  her- 
self in  the  chair  he  offered. 

"  Oh,  Mr.  Hanlon,  I'm  so  frightened — or,  at 
least,  I  was.  It's  all  so  noisy  and  confusing  down 
here !  Why,  I  haven't  been  downtown  in  New  York 
for  twenty  years !  " 

"  That  so  ?  Then  I  must  take  you  up  on  our 
roof  and  show  you  a  few  of  the  skyscrapers " 

"  No,  no,  I've  not  time  for  anything  like  that. 
Oh,  Mr.  Hanlon — you — have  you  read  in  the  papers 
of  our — our  trouble  ?  " 

"  Yes,"  and  the  young  man  spoke  gravely,  "  I 
have,  Miss  Ames.  Just  a  week  ago  to-day, 
wasn't  it?" 

"Yes;  and  they're  no  nearer  a  solution  of  the 
mystery  than  ever.  And,  oh,  Mr.  Hanlon,  they're 
still  suspecting  Eunice — Mrs.  Embury — and  I  must 


IN  HANLON'S  OFFICE  201 

save  her !  She  didn't  do  it — truly  she  didn't,  and — I 
think  I  did." 

"What!" 

"  Yes,  I  truly  think  so.  But  I  wasn't  myself, 
you  know — I  was — hypnotized " 

"  Hypnotized !     By  whom  ?  " 

"  I  don't  know — by  some  awful  person  who 
wanted  Sanford  dead,  I  suppose." 

"  But  that's  ridiculous,  Miss  Ames " 

"  No,  it  isn't.    I'm  a  very  easy  subject " 

"  Have  you  ever  been  hypnotized  ?  " 

"  Not  very  successfully.  But  no  real  hypnotizer 
ever  tried  it.  I'm  sure,  though,  I'd  be  a  perfect 
subject — I'm  so — so  psychic,  you  know " 

"  Bosh  and  nonsense !  You  know,  Miss  Ames, 
what  I  think  of  that  sort  of  thing !  You  know  how 
I  played  on  people's  gullibility  when  I  used  to  do 
that  fake  '  thought-transference  ' " 

"  I  know,  Mr.  Hanlon,"  and  Miss  Ames  was  very 
earnest,  "but,  and  this  is  why  I'm  here — you  told 
me  that  in  all  the  foolery  and  hocus-pocus  there  was, 
you  believed,  two  per  cent,  of  genuine  telepathy — 
two  per  cent,  of  genuine  communication  with  spirits 
of  the  dead " 

"  But  I  said  that  merely  in  a  general  way,  Miss 
Ames.  I  didn't  mean  to  say  it  was  a  proven 
proposition " 


202  RASPBERRY  JAM 

"  That  isn't  the  point — you  told  me  there  were 
a  few — a  very  few  real,  sincere  mediums — now  I'm 
here  to  get  the  address  of  the  best  one  you  know  of. 
I  want  to  go  to  him — or  her — and  have  a  seance,  and 
I  want  to  get  into  communication  with  San  ford — 
with  Mr.  Embury's  spirit,  and  learn  from  him  who 
killed  him.  It's  the  only  way  we  can  ever  find  out." 

Miss  Ames'  gray  eyes  took  on  a  strange  look; 
she  seemed  half  hypnotized  at  the  moment,  as  she 
looked  at  Hanlon.  He  moved  uncomfortably  under 
her  gaze. 

"  Well,"  he  said,  at  length,  "  I  can  give  you  the 
address  of  the  best — the  only  real  medium  I  know. 
That  I  will  do  with  pleasure,  but  I  cannot  guarantee 
his  bringing  about  a  materialization  of — of 
Mr.  Embury." 

"  Never  mind  about  materialization,  if  he  can  get 
in  touch  and  get  a  message  for  me.  You  see — I 
haven't  said  much  about  this — but  Mr.  Embury's 
spirit  appeared  to  me  as — as  he  died." 

"What?" 

"  Yes;  just  at  the  moment  his  soul  passed  from 
earth,  his  astral  body  passed  by  me  and  paused  at 
my  bedside  for  a  farewell." 

"  You  amaze  me !  You  are  indeed  psychic.  Tell 
me  about  it." 

"No;  I  won't  tell  you  the  story— I'll  tell  the 


IN  HANLON'S  OFFICE  203 

medium.  But  I  know  I  saw  him — why,  he  was 
discernible  to  all  my  five  senses " 

"  To  your  senses !    Then  it  was  no  spirit !  " 

"  Oh,  yes,  it  was.  Sanford's  body  still  lay  on  his 
own  bed,  but  his  passing  spirit  materialized  suffi- 
ciently for  me  to  see  it — to  hear  it — to  feel  it " 

"  Miss  Ames,  you  mustn't  go  to  a  medium !  You 
are  too  imaginative — too  easily  swayed — don't  go, 
dear  lady,  it  can  do  no  good." 

Young  Hanlon  looked,  as  he  felt,  very  solicitous 
for  the  aged  spinster,  and  he  cast  an  anxious  glance 
at  her  disturbed  face. 

"  I  must,"  she  insisted;  "  it  is  the  only  way.  I 
had  great  trouble  to  find  you,  Mr.  Hanlon.  I  had 
to  communicate  with  Mr.  Mortimer,  in  Newark — 
and  at  last  we  traced  you  here.  Are  you  all  through 
with  your  fake  tricks?  " 

"  Yes,"  Hanlon  laughed.  "  I  wore  them  out. 
I've  gone  into  a  legitimate  business." 

"  Sign  painting?  " 

"  Yes,  as  you  see." 

"  But  such  big  signs !  "  and  the  old  lady's  eyes 
wandered  to  photographs  and  sketches  of  enormous 
scenic  signs,  such  as  are  painted  on  high  buildings 
or  built  on  housetops. 

"  That's  the  specialty  of  this  firm.  I'm  only 
learning,  but  it  strongly  appeals  to  me.  It's  really 


204  RASPBERRY  JAM 

more  of  an  art  than  a  trade.  Now,  as  to  this  man 
you  want  to  see,  Miss  Ames,  I'll  give  you  his  address, 
but  I  beg  of  you  to  think  it  over  before  you  visit  him. 
Consult  with  some  one — not  Mrs.  Embury — some 
man,  of  good  judgment  and  clear  mind.  Who  is 
advising  you  ?  " 

"  Mr.  Hendricks  and  Mr.  Elliott — you  saw  them 
both  the  day  you  were  at  our  house — they  advise  my 
niece  and  myself  in  all  matters.  Shall  I  ask  them?  " 

Miss  Abby  was  pathetic  in  her  simple  inquiry, 
and  Hanlon  spoke  gently  as  he  replied. 

"Yes,  if  you  are  determined  to  try  the  experi- 
ment. But  I  do  not  advise  you  to  see  Mr.  Marigny, 
the  medium  I  spoke  of.  Here  is  the  address,  but  you 
talk  it  over  with  those  two  men  you  mentioned.  I 
know  they  are  both  practical,  logical  business  men, 
and  their  advice  on  the  subject  will  be  all  right.  I 
thank  you,  Miss  Ames,  for  honoring  me  with  a  call. 
I  hope  if  you  do  go  to  see  Marigny,  it  will  prove 
a  satisfactory  seance,  but  I  also  hope  you  will 
decide  not  to  go.  You  are,  as  I  said,  too  emo- 
tional, too  easily  swayed  by  the  supernatural  to 
go  very  deeply  into  those  mysteries.  Shall  I  take 
you  to  the  elevator  ?  " 

"  If  you  please,  Mr.  Hanlon,"  and  still  in  that 
half  oblivious  mood,  Miss  Ames  allowed  herself  to 
be  led  through  the  halls. 


IN  HANLON'S  OFFICE  205 

Hanlon  went  down  with  her,  for  he  feared  to 
leave  her  to  her  own  devices.  He  was  relieved  to 
find  she  had  a  taxicab  in  waiting,  and  as  he  put  her 
into  it,  he  cautioned  the  driver  to  take  his  fare 
straight  home. 

"  But  I  want  to  go  to  Marigny's  now,"  objected 
Miss  Ames,  as  she  heard  what  Hanlon  said. 

"Oh,  you  can't.  You  must  make  an  appoint- 
ment with  him — by  mail  or  by  telephone.  And,  too, 
you  promised  me  you'd  put  it  up  to  Mr.  Hendricks 
or  Mr.  Elliott  first." 

"  So  I  did,"  and  the  old  head  nodded  submis- 
sively, as  the  taxi  drove  away. 

When  Ferdinand  admitted  Aunt  Abby  to  the 
Embury  home,  she  heard  voices  in  the  living-room 
that  were  unmistakably  raised  in  anger. 

"You  know  perfectly  well,  Fifi,"  Eunice  was 
saying,  "  that  your  little  bridge  games  are  quite  big 
enough  to  be  called  a  violation  of  the  law — you  know 
that  such  stakes  as  you  people  play  for " 

"  It  isn't  the  size  of  the  stake  that  makes  gam- 
bling! "  Fifi  Desternay  cried,  shrilly;  "  I've  had  the 
advice  of  a  lawyer,  and  he  says  that  as  long1  as  it's 
my  own  home  and  the  players  are  invited  guests, 
there's  no  possibility  of  being " 


206  RASPBERRY  JAM 

"  Raided !  "  said  Eunice,  scathingly.  "  Might  as 
well  call  things  by  their  real  name !  " 

"  Hush  up !  Some  of  the  servants  might  hear 
you!  How  unkind  you  are  to  me,  Eunice.  You 
used  to  love  your  little  Fifi !  " 

"  Well,  she  doesn't  now ! "  said  Miss  Ames, 
tartly,  as  she  came  in.  "  You  see,  Mrs.  Desternay, 
you  have  been  instrumental  in  bringing  our  dear 
Eunice  under  a  dreadful,  and  absolutely  un- 
founded suspicion " 

"  Dreadful,  but  far  from  unfounded !  "  declared 
Mrs.  Desternay,  her  little  hands  uplifted,  and  her 
pretty  face  showing  a  scornful  smile.  "  You  and  I, 
Aunt  Abby,  know  what  our  dear  Eunice's  tem- 
per is— 

"  Don't  you  '  Aunt  Abby '  me,  you  good-for- 
nothing  little  piece!  I  am  surprised  Eunice  allows 
you  in  this  house!  " 

'"Now,  now — if  Eunice  doesn't  want  me,  I'll  get 
out — and  jolly  well  glad  to  do  so!  How  about  it, 
Eunice?  I  came  here  to  help,  but  if  I'm  not  wanted 

— out  goes  little  Fifi !  " 
° 

She  rose,  shaking  her  fur  stole  into  place  about 
her  dainty  person,  and,  whipping  out  a  tiny  mirror 
from  her  vanity  case,  she  applied  a  rouge  stick  to  her 
already  scarlet  lips. 

"  No — no — "  and  Eunice  wailed  despairingly. 


IN  HANLON'S  OFFICE  207 

"  Don't  go,  Fifi,  I — oh,  I  don't  know  how  I  feel 
toward  you!  You  see — I  will  speak  plainly — you 
see,  it  was  my  acquaintance  with  you  that  caused  the 
trouble — mostly — between  me  and  San." 

"  Thought  it  was  money  matters — his  stinginess, 
you  know." 

"  He  wasn't  stingy !  He  wouldn't  give  me  an 
allowance,  but  he  was  generous  in  every  other  way. 
And  that's  why " 

"  Why  you  came  to  my  '  gambling  house '  to  try 
to  pick  up  a  little  ready  cash!  I  know.  But  now 
looky  here,  Eunice,  you've  got  to  decide — either 
you're  wid  me  or  agin  me !  I  won't  have  any  blow 
hot,  blow  cold!  You're  friends  with  Fifi  Dester- 
nay — or — she's  your  enemy !  " 

"  What  do  you  mean  ?  " 

"  Just  what  I  say !  You  like  me,  you've  always 
liked  me.  Now,  stand  by  me,  and  I'll  stand  by  you." 

"How?" 

"  You  think  I  can't !  Well,  madame,  you're 
greatly  mistaken!  That  big  blundering  fool  of  a 
detective  person  has  been  to  see  me " 

"Shane?" 

"  The  same.  And — he  grilled  me  pretty  thor- 
oughly as  to  our  going  to  see  '  Hamlet '  and  whether 
we  talked  the  poison  scene  over — and  so  forth  and 


208  RASPBERRY  JAM 

so  on.  In  a  word,  Eunice  Embury,  I  hold  your  life 
in  my  hands !  " 

Fifi  held  out  her  pretty  little  hands,  dramatically. 
She  still  stood,  her  white  fur  scarf  hanging  from  one 
shoulder,  her  small  turban  of  red  breast  feathers 
cocked  at  a  jaunty  Bangle  above  her  straight  brows, 
and  one  tiny  slippered  foot  tapping  decidedly  on 
the  floor. 

"  Yes,  ma'am,  in  my  two  hands — me — Fifi!  If 
I  tell  all  we  said  about  that  poisoning  of  the  old 
*  Hamlet '  gentleman,  through  his  ear — you  know 
what  we  said,  Eunice  Embury — you  know  how  we 
discussed  the  impossibility  of  such  a  murder  ever 
being  discovered — you  know  if  I  should  give  Shane 
a  full  account  of  that  talk  of  ours — the  life  of 
Madame  Embury  wouldn't  be  worth  that !  " 

A  snap  of  a  dainty  thumb  and  finger  gave  a  sharp 
click  that  went  straight  through  Eunice's  brain,  and 
made  her  gasp  out  a  frightened  "  Oh !  " 

"Yes,  ma'am,  oh!  all  you  like  to— you  can't 
deny  it!  Shane  came  to  see  me  three  times.  I 
almost  told  him  all  the  last  time,  for  you  steadily 
refused  to  see  me — until  to-day.  And  now,  to-day, 
I  put  it  to  you,  Eunice  Embury,  do  you  want  me 
for  friend — or  foe?" 

Fifi's  blue  eyes  glittered,  her  red  lips  closed  in 


IN  HANLON'S  OFFICE  209 

a  tight  line,  and  her  little  pointed  face  was  as  the 
face  of  a  wicked  sprite. 

Eunice  stood,  surveying  her.  Tall,  stately,  beau- 
tiful, she  towered  above  her  guest,  and  looked  down 
on  her  with  a  fine  disdain. 

Eunice's  eyes  were  stormy,  not  glittering — des- 
perate rather  than  defiant — she  seemed  almost  like  a 
fierce,  powerful  tiger  appraising  a  small  but  very 
wily  ferret. 

"  Is  this  a  bargain  ?  "  she  cried  scathingly.  "  Are 
you  offering  to  buy  my  friendship  ?  I  know  you,  Fifi 
Desternay !  You  are — a  snake  in  the  grass !  " 

Fifi  clenched  her  little  fists,  drew  her  lips  between 
her  teeth,  and  fairly  hissed,  "  Serpent,  yourself ! 
Murderess !  I  know  all — and  I  shall  tell  all !  You'll 
regret  the  day  you  scorned  the  friendship — the  help 
of  Fifi  Desternay!" 

"  I  don't  want  your  help,  at  the  price  of  friend- 
ship with  you !  I  know  you  for  what  you  are !  My 
husband  told  me — others  have  told  me !  I  did  go  to 
your  house  for  the  sake  of  winning  money — yes,  and 
I  am  ashamed  of  it!  And  I  am  ready  to  face  any 
accusation,  brave  any  suspicion,  rather  than  be 
shielded  from  it,  or  helped  out  of  it — by  you !  " 

"  Fine  words !  but  they  mean  nothing !  You 
know  you're  justly  accused!  You  know  you're 
rightly  suspected!  But  you  are  clever — you  also 


210  RASPBERRY  JAM 

know  that  no  jury,  in  this  enlightened  age,  will  ever 
convict  a  woman!  Especially  a  beautiful  woman! 
You  know  you  are  safe  from  even  the  lightest  sen- 
tence— and  that  though  you  are  guilty — yes,  guilty 
of  the  murder  of  your  husband,  you  will  get  off  scot 
free,  because  " —  Fifi  paused  to  give  her  last  shot 
telling  effect — "  because  your  counsel,  Alvord  Hen- 
dricks,  is  in  love  with  you !  He  will  manage  it,  and 
what  he  can't  accomplish,  Mason  Elliott  can! 
With  those  two  influential  men,  both  in  love  with 
you,  you  can't  be  convicted — and  probably  you  won't 
even  be  arrested !  " 

"  Go !  "  said  Eunice,  and  she  folded  her  arms  as 
she  gazed  at  her  angry  antagonist.  "  Go !  I  scorn 
to  refute  or  even  answer  your  words." 

"  Because  they're  true !  Because  there  is  no 
answer !  "  Fifi  fairly  screamed.  "  You  think  you're 
a  power!  Because  you're  tall  and  statuesque  and 
stunning!  You  know  if  those  men  can't  keep  you 
out  of  the  court-room  at  least  you  are  safe  in  the 
hands  of  any  judge  or  jury,  because  they  are  men! 
You  know  if  you  smile  at  them — pathetically — if 
you  cast  those  wonderful  eyes  of  yours  at  them, 
they'll  grovel  at  your  feet!  I  know  you,  Eunice 
Embury!  You're  banking  on  your  femininity  to 
save  you  from  your  just  fate." 

"You  judge  me  by  yourself,  Fifi.    You  are  a 


IN  HANLON'S  OFFICE  211 

power  among  men,  most  women  are,  but  I  do  not 
bank  on  that " 

"  Not  alone !  You  bank  on  the  fact  that  either 
Hendricks  or  Elliott  would  go  through  hell  for  you, 
and  count  it  an  easy  journey.  You  rest  easy  in  the 
knowledge  that  those  two  men  can  do  just  about 
anything  they  set  their  minds  to " 

"Will  you  go?" 

"  Yes,  I  will  go.  And  when  Mr.  Shane  comes  to 
see  me  again,  I  will  tell  him  the  truth — all  the  truth 
about  the  '  Hamlet '  play — and — it  will  be  enough !  " 

"  Tell  him !  "  Eunice's  eyes  blazed  now.  "  Tell 
him  the  truth — and  add  to  it  whatever  lies  your 
clever  brain  can  invent !  Do  your  worst — Fifi  Des- 
ternay ;  I  am  not  afraid  of  you !  " 

"  I  am  going,  Eunice."  Fifi  moved  slowly  toward 
the  door.  "  I  shall  tell  the  truth,  but  I  shall  add 
no  lies — that  will  not  be  necessary!  " 

She  disappeared,  and  Eunice  stood,  panting  with 
excitement  and  indignation. 

Aunt  Abby  came  toward  her.  The  old  lady  had 
been  a  witness  of  the  whole  scene — had,  indeed,  tried 
several  times  to  utter  a  word  of  pacification,  but 
neither  of  the  women  had  so  much  as  noticed  her. 

"  Go  away,  Auntie,  please,"  said  Eunice.  "  I 
can't  talk  to  you.  I'm  expecting  Mason  at  any  time 
now,  and  I  want  to  get  calmed  down  a  little." 


212  RASPBERRY  JAM 

Miss  Ames  went  to  her  room,  and  Eunice  sat 
down  on  the  davenport. 

She  sat  upright,  tensely  quiet,  and  thought  over 
all  Fifi  had  said — all  she  had  threatened. 

"It  would  have  been  far  better,"  Eunice  told 
herself,  "  for  my  cause  if  I  had  held  her  friendship. 
And  I  could  have  done  it,  easily — but — Fifi's  friend- 
ship would  be  worse  than  her  enmity !  " 

When  Mason  Elliott  came,  Detective  Driscoll 
was  with  him. 

The  net  of  the  detectives  was  closing  in  around 
Eunice,  and  though  both  Elliott  and  Hendricks — as 
Fifi  had  truly  surmised — were  doing  all  in  their 
power,  the  denouement  was  not  far  off — Eunice  was 
in  imminent  danger  of  arrest  at  any  moment. 

"  We've  been  talking  about  the  will — Sanford's 
will,"  Elliott  said,  in  a  dreary  tone,  after  the  callers 
were  seated,  "  and,  Eunice,  Mr.  Driscoll  chooses  to 
think  that  the  fact  that  San  left  practically  every- 
thing to  you,  without  any  restraint  in  the  way  of 
trustees,  or  restriction  of  any  sort,  is  another  count 
against  you." 

Eunice  smiled  bravely.  "  But  that  isn't  news," 
she  said ;  "  we  all  knew  that  my  husband  made  me  his 
sole — or  rather  principal — beneficiary.  I  know  the 
consensus  of  opinion  is  that  I  murdered  my  husband 


IN  HANLON'S  OFFICE  213 

that  I  might  have  his  money — and  full  control  of  it. 
This  is  no  new  element." 

"  No;  "  said  Driscoll,  moved  by  the  sight  of  the 
now  patient,  gentle  face ;  "  no ;  but  we've  added  a 
few  more  facts — and  look  here,  Mrs.  Embury,  it's 
this  way.  I've  doped  it  out  that  there  are  five  per- 
sons who  could  possibly  have  committed  this — this 
crime.  I'll  speak  plainly,  for  you  have  continually 
permitted  me — even  urged  me  to  do  so.  Well,  let 
us  say  Sanford  Embury  could  have  been  killed  by 
any  one  of  a  certain  five.  And  they  size  up  like  this : 
Mr.  Elliott,  here,  and  Mr.  Alvord  Hendricks  may 
be  said  to  have  had  motive  but  no  opportunity." 

•  "Motive?"  said  Eunice,  in  a  tone  of  deepest 
possible  scorn. 

"  Yes,  ma'am.  Mr.  Elliott,  now,  is  an  admirer 
of  yours — don't  look  offended,  please;  I'm  speaking 
very  seriously.  It  is  among  the  possibilities  that  he 
wanted  your  husband  out  of  his  way." 

Mason  Elliott  listened  to  this  without  any  ex- 
pression of  annoyance.  Indeed,  he  had  heard  this 
argument  of  Driscoll's  before,  and  it  affected  him 
not  at  all. 

"  But,  Mrs.  Embury,  Mr.  Elliott  had  no  oppor- 
tunity. We  have  learned  beyond  all  doubt  that  he 
was  at  his  club  or  at  his  home  all  that  night.  Next, 
Mr.  Hendricks  had  a  motive.  The  rival  candidates 


214  RASPBERRY  JAM 

were  both  eager  for  election,  and  we  must  call  that 
a  motive  for  Mr.  Hendricks  to  be  willing  to  remove 
his  opponent.  But  again,  Mr.  Hendricks  had  no 
opportunity.  He  was  in  Boston  from  the  afternoon 
^of  the  day  before  Mr.  Embury's  death  until  noon 
of  the  next  day.  That  lets  him  out  positively. 
Therefore,  there  are  two  with  motives  but  no  oppor- 
tunity. Next,  we  must  admit  there  were  two  who 
had  opportunity,  but  no  motive.  I  refer  to  Ferdi- 
nand, your  butler,  and  Miss  Ames,  your  aunt.  These 
two  could  have  managed  to  commit  the  deed,  had 
they  chosen,  but  we  can  find  no  motive  to  attribute 
to  either  of  them.  It  has  been  suggested  that  Miss 
Ames  might  have  had  such  a  desire  to  rid  you,  Mrs. 
Embury,  of  a  tyrannical  husband,  that  she  was 
guilty.  But  it  is  so  highly  improbable  as  to  be 
almost  unbelievable. 

"  Therefore,  as  I  sum  it  up,  the  two  who  had 
motive  without  opportunity,  and  the  two  who  had 
opportunity  without  motive,  must  all  be  disregarded, 
because  of  the  one  who  had  motive  and  opportunity 
both.  Yourself,  Mrs.  Embury." 

The  arraignment  was  complete.  Driscoll's  quiet, 
even  tones  carried  a  sort  of  calm  conviction. 

"  And  so,  Eunice,"  Mason  Elliott  spoke  up,  "I'm 
going  to  try  one  more  chance.  I've  persuaded  Mr. 
Driscoll  to  wait  a  day  or  two  before  progressing  any 


IN  HANLON'S  OFFICE  215 

further,  and  let  me  get  Fleming  Stone  on  this  case." 

"  Very  well,"  said  Eunice,  listlessly.  "  Who 
is  he?" 

"  A  celebrated  detective.  Mr.  Driscoll  makes  no 
objection — which  goes  to  prove  what  a  good  detec- 
tive he  is  himself.  His  partner,  Mr.  Shane,  is  not 
so  willing,  but  has  grudgingly  consented.  In  fact, 
they  couldn't  help  themselves,  for  they  are  not  quite 
sure  that  they  have  enough  evidence  to  arrest  you. 
Shane  thinks  that  Stone  will  find  out  more,  and  so 
strengthen  the  case  against  you — but  Driscoll,  bless 
!him !  thinks  maybe  Stone  can  find  another  suspect." 

'I  didn't  exactly  say  I  thought  that,  Mr.  El- 
liott," said  Driscoll.  "  I  said  I  hoped  it." 

"  We  all  hope  it,"  returned  Elliott. 

"  Hope  while  you  may,"  and  Driscoll  sighed. 
"  Fleming  Stone  has  never  failed  to  find  the  criminal 
yet.  And  if  his  findings  verify  mine,  I  shall  be  glad 
to  put  the  responsibility  on  his  shoulders." 


CHAPTER  XIII 

FLEMING  STONE 

ONE  of  the  handsomest  types  of  American  man- 
hood is  that  rather  frequently  seen  combination  of 
iron-gray  hair  and  dark,  deep-set  eyes  that  look  out 
from  under  heavy  brows  with  a  keen,  compre- 
hensive glance. 

This  type  of  man  is  always  a  thinker,  usually  a 
professional  man,  and  almost  invariably  a  man  of 
able  brain.  He  is  nearly  always  well- formed,  physi- 
cally, and  of  good  carriage  and  demeanor. 

At  any  rate,  Fleming  Stone  was  all  of  these 
things,  and  when  he  came  into  the  Embury  living- 
room  his  appearance  was  in  such  contrast  to  that 
of  the  other  two  detectives  that  Eunice  greeted  him 
with  a  pleased  smile. 

Neither  Shane  nor  Driscoll  was  present,  and 
Mason  Elliott  introduced  Stone  to  the  two  ladies, 
with  a  deep  and  fervent  hope  that  the  great  detective 
could  free  Eunice  from  the  cloud  of  danger  and 
disgrace  that  hovered  above  her  head. 

His  magnetic  smile  was  so  attractive  that  Aunt 
Abby  nodded  her  head  in  complete  approval  of 
the  newcomer. 

"  And  now  tell  me  all  about  everything,"  Stone 
216 


FLEMING  STONE  217 

said,  as  they  seated  themselves  in  a  cozy  group.  "  I 
know  the  newspaper  facts,  but  that's  all.  I  must 
do  my  work  quite  apart  from  the  beaten  track,  and 
I  want  any  sidelights  or  bits  of  information  that 
your  local  detectives  may  have  overlooked  and  which 
may  help  us." 

"  You  don't  think  Eunice  did  it,  do  you,  Mr. 
Stone  ?  "  Aunt  Abby  broke  out,  impulsively,  quite 
forgetting  the  man  was  a  comparative  stranger. 

"  I  am  going  to  work  on  the  theory  that  she  did 
not,"  he  declared.  "  Then  we  will  see  what  we  can 
scare  up  in  the  way  of  evidence  against  some  one 
else.  First,  give  me  a  good  look  at  those  doors  that 
shut  off  the  bedrooms." 

With  a  grave  face,  Fleming  Stone  studied  the 
doors,  which,  as  he  saw,  when  bolted  on  the  inside 
left  no  means  of  access  to  the  three  rooms  in  which 
the  family  had  slept. 

"  Except  the  windows,"  Stone  mused,  and  went 
to  look  at  them. 

As  they  all  had  window-boxes,  save  one  in  Aunt 
Abby's  room,  and  as  that  was  about  a  hundred  feet 
from  the  ground,  he  dismissed  the  possibility  of 
an  intruder. 

"  Nobody  could  climb  over  the  plants  without 
breaking  them,"  said  Eunice,  with  a  sigh  at  the  in- 
evitable deduction. 


218  RASPBERRY  JAM 

Stone  looked  closely  at  the  plants,  kept  in  perfect 
order  by  Aunt  Abby,  who  loved  the  work,  and  who 
tended  them  every  day.  Not  a  leaf  was  crushed,  not 
a  stem  broken,  and  the  scarlet  geranium  blossoms 
stood  straight  up  like  so  many  mute  witnesses 
against  any  burglarious  entrance. 

Stone  returned  to  Aunt  Abby's  side  window,  and 
leaning  over  the  sill  looked  out  and  down  to  the 
street  below. 

"  Couldn't  be  reached  even  by  firemen's  ladders," 
he  said,  "  and,  anyway,  the  police  would  have  spot- 
ted any  ladder  work." 

"  I  tried  to  think  some  one  came  in  at  that  win- 
dow," said  Elliott,  "but  even  so,  nobody  could  go 
through  Miss  Ames'  room,  and  then  Mrs.  Embury's 
room,  and  so  on  to  Mr.  Embury's  room — do  his 
deadly  work — and  return  again,  without  waking 
the  ladies " 

"  Not  only  that,  but  how  could  he  get  in  the 
window  ?  "  said  Eunice.  "  There's  no  possible  way 
of  climbing  across  from  the  next  apartment — oh,  I'm 
honest  with  myself,"  she  added,  as  Stone  looked  at 
her  curiously.  "  I  don't  deceive  myself  by  thinking 
impossibilities  could  happen.  But  somebody  killed 
my  husband,  and — according  to  the  detectives — I  am 
the  only  one  who  had  both  motive  and  opportunity !" 


FLEMING  STONE  219 

"  Had  you  a  motive,  Mrs  Embury  ? "  Stone 
asked,  quietly. 

Eunice  stared  at  him.  "  They  say  so,"  she  re- 
plied. "  They  say  I  was  unhappy  with  him." 

"And  were  you?"  The  very  directness  of 
Stone's  pertinent  questions  seemed  to  compel 
Eunice's  truthful  answers,  and  she  said : 

"  Of  course  I  was!    But  that " 

"  Eunice,  hush !  "  broke  in  Elliott,  with  a  pained 
look.  "  Don't  say  such  things,  dear,  it  can  do  no 
good,  and  may  injure  your  case." 

"  Not  with  me,"  Stone  declared.  "  My  work  has 
led  me  rather  intimately  into  people's  lives,  and  I 
am  willing  to  go  on  record  as  saying  that  fifty  per 
cent,  of  marriages  are  unhappy — more  or  less. 
Whether  that  is  a  motive  for  murder  depends  en- 
tirely on  the  temper  and  temperament  of  the  married 
ones  themselves.  But — it  is  very  rarely  that  a  wife 
kills  her  husband." 

"Why,  there  are  lots  of  cases  in  the  papers," 
said  Miss  Ames.  "  And  never  are  the  women  con- 
victed, either ! " 

"  Oh,  not  lots  of  cases,"  objected  Stone,  "  but 
the  few  that  do  occur  are  usually  tragic  and  dramatic 
and  fill  a  front  page  for  a  few  days.  Now,  let's  sift 
down  this  remarkably  definite  statement  of  '  motives 
and  opportunities '  that  your  eminent  detectives  have 


220  RASPBERRY  JAM 

catalogued.  I'm  told  that  they've  two  people  with 
motive  and  no  opportunity;  two  more  with  oppor- 
tunity and  no  motive;  and  one — Mrs.  Embury — who 
fulfills  both  requirements!  Quite  an  elaborate 
schedule,  to  be  sure !  " 

Eunice  looked  at  him  with  a  glimmer  of  hope. 
Surely  a  man  who  talked  like  that  didn't  place  im- 
plicit reliance  on  the  schedule  in  question. 

"  And  yet,"  Stone  went  on,  "  it  is  certainly  true. 
A  motive  is  a  queer  thing — an  elusive,  uncertain 
thing.  They  say — I  have  this  from  the  detectives 
themselves — that  Mr.  Hendricks  and  Mr.  Elliott 
both  had  the  motive  of  deep  affection  for  Mrs.  Em- 
bury. Please  don't  be  offended,  I  am  speaking  quite 
impersonally,  now.  Mr.  Hendricks,  I  am  advised, 
also  had  a  strong  motive  in  a  desire  to  remove  a 
rival  candidate  for  an  important  election.  But — 
neither  of  these  gentlemen  had  opportunity,  as  each 
has  proven  a  perfect  and  indubitable  alibi.  I  admit 
the  alibis — I've  looked  into  them,  and  they  are  unim- 
peachable— but  I  don't  admit  the  motives.  Grant- 
ing a  man's  affection  for  a  married  woman,  it  is  not 
at  all  a  likely  thing  for  him  to  kill  her  husband." 

"  Right,  Mr.  Stone!  "  and  Mason  Elliott's  voice 
rang  out  in  honest  appreciation. 

"  Again,  it  is  absurd  to  suspect  one  election  can- 
didate of  killing  another.  It  isn't  done — and  one 


FLEMING  STONE  221 

very  good  reason  is,  that  if  the  criminal  should  be 
discovered,  he  has  small  chance  for  the  election  he 
coveted.  And  there  is  always  a  chance — and  a  strong 
one — that  *  murder  will  out ' !  So,  personally,  I 
admit  I  don't  subscribe  entirely  to  the  cut-and-dried 
program  of  my  esteemed  colleagues.  Now,  as  to 
these  two  people  with  opportunity  but  no  motive. 
They  are,  I'm  told,  Miss  Ames  and  the  butler.  Very 
well,  I  grant  their  opportunity — but  since  they  are 
alleged  to  have  no  motive,  why  consider  them  at  all  ? 
This  brings  us  to  Mrs.  Embury." 

Eunice  was  watching  the  speaker,  fascinated. 
She  had  never  met  a  man  like  this  before.  Though 
Stone's  manner  was  by  no  means  flippant,  he  seemed 
to  take  a  light  view  of  some  aspects  of  the  case.  But 
now,  he  looked  at  Eunice  very  earnestly. 

"  I  am  informed,"  he  went  on,  slowly,  "  that  you 
have  an  ungovernable  temper,  Mrs.  Embury." 

"Nothing  of  the  sort!"  Eunice  cried,  tossing 
her  head  defiantly  and  turning  angry  eyes  on  the 
bland  detective.  "  I  am  supposed  to  be  unable  to 
control  myself,  but  it  is  not  true !  As  a  child  I  gave 
way  to  fits  of  temper,  I  acknowledge,  but  I  have 
overcome  that  tendency,  and  I  am  no  more  hot- 
tempered  now  than  other  people !  " 

As  always,  when  roused,  Eunice  looked  strik- 
ingly beautiful,  her  eyes  shone  and  her  cheeks 


222  EASPBERRY  JAM 

showed  a  crimson  flush.  She  drew  herself  up 
haughtily,  and  clenching  her  hands  on  the  back  of 
a  chair,  as  she  stood  facing  Stone,  she  said,  "If  you 
have  come  here  to  browbeat  me — to  discuss  my  per- 
sonal characteristics,  you  may  go!  I've  no  inten- 
tion of  being  brought  to  book  by  a  detective!  " 

"  Why,  Eunice,  don't  talk  that  way,"  begged 
Aunt  Abby.  "  I'm  sure  Mr.  Stone  is  trying  to  get 
you  freed  from  the  awful  thing  that  is  hanging 
over  you ! " 

"  There's  no  awful  thing  hanging  over  me !  I 
don't  know  what  you  mean,  Aunt  Abby!  There 
can't  be  anything  worse  than  to  have  a  stranger 
come  in  here  and  remark  on  my  unfortunate  weak- 
ness in  sometimes  giving  way  to  my  sense  of  right- 
eous indignation!  I  resent  it!  I  won't  have  it! 
Mason,  you  brought  Mr.  Stone  here — now  take 
him  away ! " 

"  There,  there,  Eunice,  you  are  not  quite  your- 
self, and  I  don't  wonder.  This  scene  is  too  much 
for  you.  I'm  sure  you  will  make  allowance,  Mr. 
Stone,  for  Mrs.  Embury's  overwrought  nerves " 

"  Of  course,"  and  Fleming  Stone  spoke  coldly, 
without  sympathy  or  even  apparent  interest.  "  Let 
Mrs.  Embury  retire  to  her  room,  if  she  wishes." 

They  had  all  returned  to  the  big  living-room,  and 


FLEMING  STONE  223 

Stone  stood  near  a  front  window,  now  and  then 
glancing  out  to  the  trees  in  Park  Avenue  below. 

"  I  don't  want  to  retire  to  my  room !  "  Eunice 
cried.  "  I  don't  want  to  be  set  aside  as  if  I  were  a 
child !  I  did  want  Mr.  Stone  to  investigate  this  whole 
matter,  but  I  don't  now — I've  changed  my  mind! 
Mason,  tell  him  to  go  away !  " 

"  No,  dear,"  and  Elliott  looked  at  her  kindly, 
"  you  can't  change  your  mind  like  that.  Mr.  Stone 
has  the  case,  and  he  will  go  on  with  it  and  when 
you  come  to  yourself  again,  you  will  be  glad,  for 
he  will  free  you  from  suspicion  by  finding  the 
real  criminal." 

"  I  don't  want  him  to !  I  don't  want  the  criminal 
found !  I  want  it  to  be  an  unsolved  mystery,  always 
and  forever ! " 

"  No ;  "  Elliott  spoke  more  firmly.  "  No,  Eunice, 
that  is  not  what  you  want " 

"  Stop !  I  know  what  I  want — without  your 
telling  me!  You  overstep  your  privileges,  Ma- 
son! I'm  not  an  imbecile,  to  be  ignored,  set 
aside,  overruled !  I  won't  stand  it !  Mr.  Stone,  you 
are  discharged ! " 

She  stood,  pointing  to  the  door  with  a  gesture 
that  would  have  been  melodramatic,  had  she  not  been 
so  desperately  in  earnest.  The  soft  black  sleeve 
fell  away  from  her  soft  white  arm,  and  her  out- 


224  RASPBERRY  JAM 

stretched  hand  was  steady  and  unwavering  as  she 
stood  silent,  but  quivering  with  suppressed  rage. 

"  Eunice,"  and  going  to  her,  Elliott  took  the  cold 
white  hand  in  his  own.  "  Eunice,"  he  said,  and  no 
more,  but  his  eyes  looked  deeply  into  hers. 

She  gazed  steadily  for  a  moment,  and  then  her 
face  softened,  and  she  turned  aside,  and  sank  wearily 
into  a  chair. 

"  Do  as  you  like,"  she  said,  in  a  low  murmur. 
"I'll  leave  it  to  you,  Mason.  Let  Mr.  Stone 
go  ahead." 

"  Yes,  go  ahead,  Mr.  Stone,"  said  Aunt  Abby, 
eagerly.  "  I'll  show  you  anywhere  you  want  to  go — 
anything  you  want  to  see — I'll  tell  you  all  about  it." 

"  Why,  do  you  know  anything  I  haven't  been 
told,  Miss  Ames?  I  thought  we  had  pretty  well 
sized  up  the  situation." 

"  Yes,  but  I  can  tell  you  something  that  nobody 
else  will  listen  to,  and  I  think  you  will." 

"  Eunice  started  up  again.  "  Aunt  Abby,"  she 
said,  "  if  you  begin  that  pack  of  fool  nonsense  about 
a  vision,  I'll  leave  the  room — I  vow  I  will !  " 

"  Leave,  then ! "  retorted  Aunt  Abby,  whose 
patience  was  also  under  a  strain. 

But  Stone  said,  "Wait,  please,  I  want  a  few 
more  matters  mentioned,  and  then,  Miss  Ames,  I 
will  listen  to  your  *  fool  nonsense! '  First,  what  is 


FLEMING  STONE  225 

this  talk  about  money  troubles  between  Mr.  and 
Mrs.  Embury  ?  " 

"  That,"  Eunice  seemed  interested,  "  is  utter 
folly.  My  husband  objected  to  giving  me  a  definite 
allowance,  but  he  gave  me  twice  the  sum  I  would 
have  asked  for,  and  more,  too,  by  letting  me  have 
charge  accounts  everywhere  I  chose." 

"  Then  you  didn't  kill  him  for  that  reason  ?  " 
and  the  dark  eyes  of  the  detective  rested  on 
Eunice  kindly. 

"  No ;  I  did  not ! "  she  said,  curtly,  and  Stone 
returned,  "  I  believe  you,  Mrs.  Embury;  if  you  were 
the  criminal,  that  was  not  the  motive.  Next,"  he 
went  on,  "  what  about  this  quarrel  you  and  Mr. 
Embury  had  the  night  before  his  death  ?  " 

"  That  was  because  I  had  disobeyed  his  express 
orders,"  Eunice  said,  frankly  and  bravely,  "  and  I 
went  to  a  bridge  game  at  a  house  to  which  he  had 
forbidden  me  to  go.  I  am  sorry — and  I  wish  I 
could  tell  him  so." 

Fleming  Stone  looked  at  her  closely.  Was  she 
sincere  or  was  she  merely  a  clever  actress  ? 

"A  game  for  high  stakes,  I  assume,"  he 
said  quietly. 

"  Very  high.    Mr.  Embury  objected  strongly  to 
my  playing  there,  but  I  went,  hoping  to  win  some 
money  that  I  wanted." 
15 


226  RASPBERRY  JAM 

"  That  you  wanted  ?  For  some  particular 
purpose  ?  " 

"  No ;  only  that  I  might  have  a  few  dollars  in 
my  purse,  as  other  women  do.  It  all  comes  back  to 
the  same  old  quarrel,  Mr.  Stone.  You  don't  know — 
I  can't  make  you  understand — how  humiliating,  how 
galling  it  is  for  a  woman  to  have  no  money  of  her 
own!  Nobody  understands — but  I  have  been  sub- 
jected to  shame  and  embarrassment  hundreds  of 
times  for  the  want  of  a  bit  of  ready  money! " 

"I  think  I  do  understand,  Mrs.  Embury. 
I  know  how  hard  it  must  have  been  for  a 
proud  woman  to  have  that  annoyance.  Did  Mr, 
Embury  object  to  the  lady  who  was  your  hostess 
that  evening  ?  " 

"  Yes,  he  did.  Mrs.  Desternay  is  an  old  school 
friend  of  mine,  but  Mr.  Embury  never  liked  her,  and 
he  objected  more  strenuously  because  she  had  the 
bridge  games." 

"  And  the  lady's  attitude  toward  you?  " 

"  Fifi  ?  Oh,  I  don't  know.  We've  always  been 
friends,  generally  speaking,  but  we've  had  quarrels 
now  and  then — sometimes  we'd  be  really  intimate, 
and  then  again,  we  wouldn't  speak  for  six  weeks  at 
a  time.  Just  petty  tiffs,  you  know,  but  they  seemed 
serious  at  the  time." 

"  I  see.    Hello,  here's  McGuire! " 


FLEMING  STONE 

Ferdinand,  with  a  half -apologetic  look,  ushered 
in  a  boy,  with  red  hair,  and  a  very  red  face.  He  was 
a  freckled  youth,  and  his  bright  eyes  showed  quick 
perception  as  they  darted  round  the  room,  and  came 
to  rest  on  Miss  Ames,  on  whom  he  smiled  broadly. 

"  This  is  my  assistant,"  Stone  said,  casually;  "his 
name  is  Terence  McGuire,  and  he  is  an  invaluable 
help.  Anything  doing,  son?" 

"  Not  partickler.    Kin  I  sit  and  listen?  " 

Clearly  the  lad  was  embarrassed,  probably  at 
the  unaccustomed  luxury  of  his  surroundings  and 
the  presence  of  so  many  high-bred  strangers.  For 
Terence,  or  Fibsy,  as  he  was  nicknamed,  was  a  child 
of  the  streets,  and  though  a  clever  assistant  to 
Fleming  Stone  in  his  career,  the  boy  seldom  accom- 
panied his  employer  to  the  homes  of  the  aristocracy. 
When  he  did  do  so,  he  was  seized  with  a  shyness 
that  was  by  no  means  evident  when  he  was  in  his 
more  congenial  surroundings. 

He  glanced  bashfully  at  Eunice,  attracted  by  her 
beauty,  but  afraid  to  look  at  her  attentively.  He 
gazed  at  Mason  Elliott  with  a  more  frank  curiosity; 
and  then  he  cast  a  furtive  look  at  Aunt  A.bby,  who 
was  herself  smiling  at  him. 

It  was  a  genial,  whole-souled  smile,  for  the  old 
lady  had  a  soft  spot  in  her  heart  for  boys,  and  was 


228  RASPBERRY  JAM 

already  longing  to  give  him  some  fruit  and  nuts 
from  the  sideboard. 

Fibsy  seemed  to  divine  her  attitude,  and  he 
grinned  affably,  and  was  more  at  his  ease. 

But  he  sat  quietly  while  the  others  went  on  dis- 
cussing the  details  of  the  case. 

Eunice  was  amazed  at  such  a  strange  partner 
for  the  great  man,  but  she  quickly  thought  that  a 
street  urchin  like  that  could  go  to  places  and  learn 
of  side  issues  in  ways  which  the  older  man  could 
not  compass  so  conveniently. 

Presently  Fibsy  slipped  from  his  seat,  and  quietly 
went  into  the  bedrooms. 

Eunice  raise  her  eyebrows  slightly,  but  Fleming 
Stone,  observing,  said,  "  Don't  mind,  Mrs.  Embury. 
The  lad  is  all  right.  I'll  vouch  for  him." 

"  A  queer  helper,"  remarked  Elliott. 

"Yes;  but  very  worth-while.  I  rely  on  him  in 
many  ways,  and  he  almost  never  fails  to  help  me. 
He's  now  looking  over  the  bedrooms,  just  as  I  did, 
and  he'll  disturb  nothing." 

"  Mercy  me !  "  exclaimed  Aunt  Abby ;  "  maybe 
he  won't — but  I  don't  like  boys  prowling  among  my 
things !  "  and  she  scurried  after  him. 

She  found  him  in  her  room,  and  rather  gruffly 
said,  "  What  are  you  up  to,  boy?  " 

"  Snuff,  ma'am,"  he  replied,  with  a  comical  wink, 


FLEMING  STONE  229 

which  ought  to  have  shocked  the  old  lady,  but  which, 
somehow,  had  a  contrary  effect. 

"Do  you  like  candy?"  she  asked — unneces- 
sarily, she  knew — and  offered  him  a  box  from 
a  drawer. 

Fibsy  felt  that  a  verbal  answer  was  not  called 
for,  and,  helping  himself,  proceeded  to  munch  the 
sweets,  contentedly  and  continuously. 

"  Say,"  he  burst  out,  after  a  thoughtful  study  of 
the  room,  "  where  was  that  there  dropper  thing 
found,  anyhow  ?  " 

"  In  this  medicine  chest " 

"Naw;  I  mean  where'd  the  girl  find  it? — the 
housework  girl." 

"  You  seem  to  know  a  lot  about  the  matter !  " 

"  Sure  I  do.    Where'd  you  say  ?  " 

"  Right  here,"  and  Aunt  Abby  pointed  to  a  place 
on  the  rug  near  the  head  of  her  bed.  It  was  a  nar- 
row bed,  which  had  been  brought  there  for  her 
during  her  stay. 

"  Huh!     Now  you  could'a  dropped  it  there?  " 

"  I  know,"  and  Aunt  Abby  whispered,  "  No- 
body'll  believe  me,  but  I  know !  " 

"  You  do !  Say,  you're  some  wiz !  Spill  it  to  me, 
there's  a  dear !  " 

Fibsy  was,  in  his  way,  a  psychologist,  and  he 
Icnew  by  instinct  that  this  old  lady  would  like  him 


RASPBERRY  JAM 

better  if  he  retained  his  ignorant,  untutored  ways, 
than  if  he  used  the  more  polished  speech,  which  he 
had  painstakingly  acquired  for  other  kinds 
of  occasions. 

"•I  wonder  if  you'd  understand.  For  a  boy, 
you're  a  bright  one " 

"  Oh,  yes,  ma'am.  I  am !  They  don't  make  'em 
no  brighter  'n  me!  Try  me,  do,  Miss  Ames!  I'm 
right  there  with  the  goods." 

"  Well,  child,  it's  this :  I  saw  a — a  vision " 

"Yes'm,  I  know — I  mean  I  know  what  visions 
are,  they're  fine,  too !  "  He  fairly  smacked  his  lips  in 
gusto,  and  it  encouraged  Aunt  Abby  to  proceed. 

"  Yes,  and  it  was  the  ghost  of — who  do  you 
suppose  it  was?  " 

"Your  grandmother,  ma'am?"  The  boy's  at- 
titude was  eagerly  attentive  and  his  freckled  little 
face  was  drawn  in  a  desperate  interest. 

"  No ! "  Aunt  Abby  drew  closer  and  just 
breathed  the  words,  "  Mr.  Embury !  " 

"  Oh !  "  Fibsy  was  really  startled,  and  his  eyes 
opened  wide,  as  he  urged,  "  Go  on,  ma'am !  " 

"  Yes.  Well,  it  was  just  at  the  moment  that 
Mr.  Embury  was — that  he  died — you  know." 

"  Yes'm,  they  always  comes  then,  ma'am ! " 

"  I  know  it,  and  oh,  child,  this  is  a  true  story!  " 

"Oh,  yes,  ma'am — I  know  it  is !  " 


FLEMING  STONE  231 

Indeed  one  could  scarcely  doubt  it,  for  Aunt 
Abby,  having  found  an  interested  listener  at  last, 
poured  forth  her  account  of  her  strange  experience, 
not  caring  for  comment  or  explanation,  since  she 
had  found  some  one  who  believed! 

"  Yes,  it  was  just  at  that  time — I  know,  because 
it  was  almost  daylight — just  before  dawn — and  I 
was  asleep,  but  not  entirely  asleep " 

"  Sort'a  half  dozing " 

"Yes;  and  Sanford — Mr.,  Embury,  you  know, 
came  gliding  through  my  room,  and  he  stopped  at 
my  bedside  to  say  good-by " 

"Was  he  alive?"  asked  Fibsy,  awe-struck  at 
her  hushed  tones  and  bright,  glittering  eyes. 

"  Oh,  no,  it  was  his  spirit,  you  see — his  disem- 
bodied spirit " 

"  How  could  you  see  it,  then?  " 

"  When  spirits  appear  like  that,  they  are  visible." 

"  Oh,  ma'am— I  didn't  know." 

"  Yes,  and  I  not  only  saw  him — but  he  was  evi- 
dent to  all  my  five  senses !  " 

"  What,  ma'am  ?    What  do  you  mean  ?  " 

Fibsy  drew  back,  a  little  scared,  as  Aunt  Abby 
clutched  his  sleeve  in  her  excitement.  He  felt  un- 
easy, for  it  was  growing  dusk,  and  the  old  lady  was 
in  such  a  state  of  nervous  exhilaration  that  he  shrank 
a  little  from  her  proximity. 


232  RASPBERRY  JAM 

But  Fibsy  was  game.  "  Go  on,  ma'am,"  he 
whispered. 

"  Yes,"  Aunt  Abby  declared,  with  an  eerie  smile 
of  triumph,  "  I  saw  him — I  heard  him — I  felt  him — 
I  smelled  him — and,  I  tasted  him !  " 

Fibsy  nearly  shrieked,  for  at  each  enumeration 
of  her  marvelous  experiences,  Miss  Ames  grasped 
his  arm  tighter  and  emphasized  her  statements  by 
pounding  on  his  shoulder. 

She  seemed  unaware  of  his  personal  presence — 
she  talked  more  as  if  recounting  the  matter  to  her- 
self, but  she  used  him  as  a  general  audience  and  the 
boy  had  to  make  a  desperate  effort  to  preserve 
his  poise. 

And  then  it  struck  him  that  the  old  lady  was 
crazy,  or  else  she  really  had  an  important  story  to 
tell.  In  either  case,  it  was  his  duty  to  let  Fleming 
Stone  hear  it,  at  first  hand,  if  possible.  But  he  felt 
sure  that  to  call  in  the  rest  of  the  household,  or  to 
take  the  narrator  out  to  them  would — as^he  ex- 
pressed it  to  himself — "upset  her  apple-cart  and 
spill  the  beans !  " 


CHAPTER  XIV 

THE  FIVE  SENSES 

HOWEVER,  he  decided  quickly,  it  must  be  done, 
so  he  said,  diplomatically,  "  This  is  awful  int'res- 
tin',  Miss  Ames,  and  I'm  just  dead  sure  and  certain 
Mr.  Stone'd  think  so,  too.  Let's  go  out  and  get  it 
off  where  he  c'n  hear  it.  What  say  ?  " 

The  boy  had  risen  and  was  edging  toward  the 
door.  Rather  than  lose  her  audience,  Aunt  Abby 
followed,  and  in  a  moment  the  pair  appeared  in  the 
living-room,  where  Fleming  Stone  was  still  talking 
to  Eunice  and  Mr.  Elliott. 

"  Miss  Ames,  now,  she's  got  somethin'  worth 
tellin',"  Fibsy  announced.  "  This  yarn  of  hers  is 
pure  gold  and  a  yard  wide,  Mr.  Stone,  and  you 
oughter  hear  it,  sir." 

"  Gladly,"  and  Stone  gave  Aunt  Abby  a  wel- 
coming smile. 

Nothing  loath  to  achieve  the  center  of  the  stage, 
the  old  lady  seated  herself  in  her  favorite  arm-chair, 
and  began : 

"  It  was  almost  morning,"  she  said,  "  a  faint 
dawn  began  to  make  objects  about  the  room  visible, 

233 


234  RASPBERRY  JAM 

when  I  opened  my  eyes  and  saw  a  dim,  gliding 
figure " 

Eunice  gave  an  angry  exclamation,  and  rising 
quickly  from  her  chair,  walked  into  her  own  room, 
and  closed  the  door  with  a  siam  that  left  no  doubt 
as  to  her  state  of  mind. 

"  Let  her  alone,"  advised  Elliott ;  "  she's  better 
off  in  there.  What  is  this  story,  Aunt  Abby?  I've 
never  heard  it  in  full." 

"No;  Eunice  never  would  let  me  tell  it. 
But  it  will  solve  all  mystery  of  Sanford's  death." 

"  Then  it  is  indeed  important,"  and  Stone  looked 
at  the  speaker  intently. 

"  Yes,  Mr.  Stone,  it  will  prove  beyond  all  doubt 
that  Mr.  Embury  was  a  suicide." 

"  Go  on,  then,"  said  Elliott,  briefly. 

"  I  will.  In  the  half  light,  I  saw  this  figure  I 
just  mentioned.  It  wasn't  discernible  clearly — it  was 
merely  a  moving  shadow — a  vague  shape.  It  came 
toward  me- " 

"From  which  direction?"  asked  Stone,  with 
decided  interest. 

"  From  Eunice's  room — that  is,  it  had,  of  course, 
come  from  Mr.  Embury's  room,  through  Eunice's 
room,  and  so  on  into  my  room.  For  it  was  Sanford 
Embury's  spirit — get  that  firmly  in  your  minds ! 

The  old  lady  spoke  with  asperity,  for  she  was 


THE  FIVE  SENSES  325 

afraid  of  contradiction,  and  resented  their  quite  ap- 
parent scepticism. 

"  Go  on,  please,"  urged  Stone, 

"  Well,  the  spirit  came  nearer  my  bed,  and 
paused  and  looked  down  on  me  where  I  lay." 

"  Did  you  see  his  face?  "  asked  Elliott. 

"  Dimly.  I  can't  seem  to  make  you  understand 
how  vague  the  whole  thing  was — and  yet  it  was 
there!  As  he  leaned  over  me,  I  saw  him — saw  the 
indistinct  shape — and  I  heard  the  sound  of  a  watch 
ticking.  It  was  not  my  watch,  it  was  a  very  faint 
ticking  one,  but  all  else  was  so  still,  that  I  positively 
heard  it." 

"  Gee !  "  said  Fibsy,  in  an  explosive  whisper. 

"  Then  he  seemed  about  to  move  away.  Im- 
pulsively, I  made  a  movement  to  detain  him.  Almost 
without  volition — acting  on  instinct — I  put  out  my 
hand  and  clutched  his  arm.  I  felt  his  sleeve — it 
wasn't  a  coat  sleeve — nor  a  pa  jama  sleeve — it 
seemed  to  have  on  his  gymnasium  suit — the  sleeve 
was  like  woolen  jersey " 

"And  you  felt  this?" 

"Yes,  Mr.  Stone,  I  felt  it  distinctly — and  not 
only  with  my  hand  as  I  grasped  at  his  arm — but — " 
Aunt  Abby  hesitated  an  instant,  then  went  on,  "  But 
I  bit  at  him !  Yes,  I  did !  I  don't  know  why,  only 
I  was  possessed  with  an  impulse  to  hold  him — and 


236  RASPBERRY  JAM 

he  was  slipping  away.  I  didn't  realize  at  the  time — 
who — what  it  was,  and  I  sort  of  thought  it  was  a 
burglar.  But,  anyway,  I  bit  at  him,  and  so  I  bit  at 
the  woolen  sleeve — it  was  unmistakable — and  on  it 
I  tasted  raspberry  jam." 

"What!"  cried  her  hearers  almost  in  concert. 

"  Yes — you  needn't  laugh — I  guess  I  know  the 
taste  of  raspberry  jam,  and  it  was  on  that  sleeve,  as 
sure  as  I'm  sitting  here !  " 

"  Gee !  "  repeated  Fibsy,  his  fists  clenched  on  his 
knees  and  his  bright  eyes  fairly  boring  into  the  old 
lady's  countenance.  "  Gee  whiz !  " 

"  Go  on,"  said  Stone,  quietly. 

"  And — I  smelt  gasoline,"  concluded  Miss  Ames 
defiantly.  "  Now,  sir,  there's  the  story.  Make  what 
you  will  out  of  it,  it's  every  word  true.  I've  thought 
it  over  and  over,  since  I  realized  what  it  all  meant, 
and  had  I  known  at  the  time  it  was  Sanf  ord's  spirit, 
I  should  have  spoken  to  him.  But  as  it  was,  I  was 
too  stunned  to  speak,  and  when  I  tried  to  hold  him, 
he  slipped  away,  and  disappeared.  But  it  was  posi- 
tively a  materialization  of  Sanford  Embury's  flitting 
spirit — and  nothing  else." 

"  The  vision  may  argue  a  passing  soul,"  Stone 
said  kindly,  as  if  humoring  her,  "  but  the  effect  on 
your  other  senses,  seems  to  me  to  indicate  a  liv- 
ing person." 


THE  FIVE  SENSES  237 

"No,"  and  Aunt  Abby  spoke  with  deep  sol- 
emnity, "  a  materialized  spirit  is  evident  to  our 
senses — one  or  another  of  them.  In  this  case  I 
discerned  it  by  all  five  senses,  which  is  unusual — 
possibly  unique;  but  I  am  very  psychic — very  sensi- 
tive to  spiritual  manifestations." 

"  You  have  seen  ghosts  before,  then?  " 

"  Oh,  yes.  I  have  visions  often.  But  never  such 
a  strange  one." 

"  And  where  did  this  spirit  disappear  to  ?  " 

"  It  just  faded.  It  seemed  to  waft  on  across  the 
room.  I  closed  my  eyes  involuntarily,  and  when  I 
opened  them  again  it  was  gone." 

"  Leaving  no  trace  behind  ?  " 

"  The  faint  odor  of  gasoline — and  the  taste  of 
raspberry  jam  on  my  tongue." 

Fibsy  snickered,  but  suppressed  it  at  once,  and 
said,  "  And  he  left  the  little  dropper-thing  beside 
your  bed  ?  " 

"  Yes,  boy !  You  seem  clairvoyant  yourself !  He 
did.  It  was  Sanford,  of  course ;  he  had  killed  him- 
self with  the  poison,  and  he  tried  to  tell  me  so — but 
he  couldn't  make  any  communication — they  rarely 
can — so  he  left  the  tiny  implement,  that  we  might 
know  and  understand." 

"H'm,  yes;"  and  Stone  sat  thinking.  "Now, 
Miss  Ames,  you  must  not  be  offended  at  what  I'm 


238  RASPBERRY  JAM 

about  to  say.  I  don't  disbelieve  your  story  at  all.  You 
tell  it  too  honestly  for  that.  I  fully  believe  you  saw 
what  you  call  a  '  vision.'  But  you  have  thought  over 
it  and  brooded  over  it,  until  you  think  you  saw  more 
than  you  did — or  less !  But,  leaving  that  aside  for 
the  moment,  I  want  you  to  realize  that  your  theory 
of  suicide,  based  on  the  '  vision  '  is  not  logical.  Sup- 
posing your  niece  were  guilty — as  the  detectives 
think — might  not  Mr.  Embury's  spirit  have  pur- 
sued the  same  course?  " 

Aunt  Abby  pondered.  Then,  her  eyes  flashing, 
she  cried,  "  Do  you  mean  he  put  the  dropper  in  my 
room  to  throw  suspicion  on  me,  instead  of  on 
his  wife?" 

"  There  is  a  chance  for  such  a  theory." 

"  San  ford  wouldn't  do  such  a  thing!  He  was 
truly  fond  of  me!  " 

"  But  to  save  his  wife?  " 

"  I  never  thought  of  all  that.  Maybe  he  did — or, 
maybe  he  dropped  the  thing  accidentally " 

"  Maybe."    Stone  spoke  preoccupiedly. 

Mason  Elliott,  too,  sat  in  deep  thought.  At  last 
he  said : 

"  Aunt  Abby,  if  I  were  you,  I  wouldn't  tell  that 
yarn  to  anybody  else.  Let's  all  forget  it,  and  call 
it  merely  a  dream." 

"What  do  you  mean,  Mason?  "    The  old  lady 


THE  FIVE  SENSES  839 

bridled,  having  no  wish  to  hear  her  marvelous  ex- 
perience belittled.  "  It  wasn't  a  dream — not  an 
ordinary  dream — it  was  a  true  appearance  of  San- 
ford,  after  his  death.  You  know  such  things  do 
happen — look  at  that  son  of  Sir  Oliver  Lodge.  You 
don't  doubt  that,  do  you?  " 

"  Never  mind  those  things.  But  I  earnestly  beg 
of  you,  Aunt  Abby,  to  forget  the  episode — or,  at 
least,  to  promise  me  you'll  not  repeat  it  to  any 
one  else." 

"Why?" 

"  I  think  it  wiser  for  all  concerned — for  all  con- 
cerned— that  the  tale  shall  not  become  public 
property." 

"But  why?" 

"Oh,  my  land!"  burst  out  Fibsy;  "don't  you 
see  ?  The  ghost  was  Mrs.  Embury !  " 

The  boy  had  put  into  words  what  was  in  the 
thoughts  of  both  Stone  and  Elliott.  They  realized 
that,  while  Aunt  Abby's  experience  might  have  been 
entirely  a  dream,  it  was  so  circumstantial  as  to  indi- 
cate a  real  occurrence,  and  in  that  case,  what  solu- 
tion so  plausible  as  that  Eunice,  after  committing 
the  crime,  wandered  into  her  aunt's  room,  and 
whether  purposely  or  accidentally,  dropped  the  im- 
plement of  death? 


240  RASPBERRY  JAM 

Stone,  bent  on  investigation,  plied  Miss  Ames 
with  questions. 

Elliott,  sorely  afraid  for  Eunice,  begged  the  old 
lady  not  to  answer. 

"  You  are  inventing !  "  he  cried.  "  You  are 
drawing  on  your  imagination !  Don't  believe  all  that, 
Mr.  Stone.  It  isn't  fair  to — to  Mrs.  Embury !  " 

"Then  you  see  it  as  I  do,  Mr.  Elliott?"  and 
Stone  turned  to  him  quickly.  "  But,  even  so,  we 
must  look  into  this  story.  Suppose,  as  an  experi- 
ment, we  build  up  a  case  against  Mrs.  Embury,  for 
the  purpose  of  knocking  it  down  again.  A  man  of 
straw — you  know." 

"  Don't,"  pleaded  Elliott.  "  Just  forget  the  rig- 
marole of  the  nocturnal  vision — and  devote  your 
energies  to  finding  the  real  murderer.  I  have 
a  theory " 

"  Wait,  Mr.  Elliott,  I  fear  you  are  an  interested 
investigator.  Don't  forget  that  you  have  been  men- 
tioned as  one  of  those  with  *  motive  but  no 
opportunity.' ' 

"  Since  you  have  raised  that  issue,  Mr.  Stone,  let 
me  say  right  here  that  my  regard  for  Mrs.  Embury 
is  very  great.  It  is  also  honorable  and  lifelong.  I 
make  no  secret  of  it,  but  I  declare  to  you  that  its 
very  purity  and  intensity  puts  it  far  above  and  be- 


THE  FIVE  SENSES  241 

yond  any  suspicion  of  being  a  '  motive  '  for  the  mur- 
der of  Mrs.  Embury's  huband." 

Mason  Elliott  looked  Fleming  Stone  straight  in 
the  eye  and  the  speaker's  tone  and  expression  carried 
a  strong  conviction  of  sincerity. 

Fibsy,  too,  scrutinized  Elliott. 

"  Good  egg!  "  he  observed  to  himself;  "  trouble 
is — he'd  give  us  that  same  song  and  dance  if  he'd 
croaked  the  guy  his  own  self !  " 

"  Furthermore,"  Stone  went  on,  "  Mrs.  Embury 
shows  a  peculiarly  strong  repugnance  to  hearing  this 
story  of  Miss  Ames'  experience.  That  looks " 

"  Oh,  fiddlesticks !  "  cried  Miss  Ames,  who  had 
been  listening  in  amazement;  "it  wasn't  Eunice! 
Why  would  she  rig  up  in  Sanf ord's  gym  jersey  ?  " 

"Why  wouldn't  she?"  countered  Stone.  "As 
I  said,  we're  building  up  a  supposititious  case.  As- 
sume that  it  was  Mrs.  Embury,  not  at  all  enacting 
a  ghost,  but  merely  wandering  around  after  her  im- 
pulsive deed — for  if  she  is  the  guilty  party  it  must 
have  been  an  impulsive  deed.  You  know  her  un- 
controllable temper — her  sudden  spasms  of  rage — " 

"  Mr.  Stone,  a  '  man  of  straw,'  as  you  call  it,  is 
much  more  easily  built  up  than  knocked  down." 
Elliott  spoke  sternly.  "  I  hold  you  have  no  right 
to  assume  Mrs.  Embury's  identity  in  this  story  Miss 
Ames  tells." 

16 


RASPBERRY  JAM 

"  Is  there  anything  that  points  to  her  in  your 
discernment  by  your  five  senses,  Miss  Ames?  "  Stone 
asked,  very  gravely.  "  Has  Mrs.  Embury  a  faintly 
ticking  watch  ?  " 

"  Yes,  her  wrist-watch,"  Aunt  Abby  answered, 
though  speaking  evidently  against  her  will. 

"  And  it  is  possible  that  she  slipped  on  her  hus- 
band's jersey ;  and  it  is  possible  there  was  raspberry 
jam  on  the  sleeve  of  it.  You  see,  I  am  not  doubting 
the  evidence  of  your  senses.  Now,  as  to  the  gasoline. 
Had  Mrs.  Embury,  or  her  maid,  by  any  chance,  been 
cleaning  any  laces  or  finery  with  gasoline?  " 

"  I  won't  tell  you! "  and  Aunt  Abby  shook  her 
head  so  obstinately  that  it  was  quite  equivalent  to  an 
affirmative  answer! 

"  Now,  you  see,  Aunt  Abby,"  protested  Elliott, 
in  an  agonized  voice,  "  why  I  want  you  to  shut  up 
about  that  confounded  '  vision ' !  You  are  respon- 
sible for  this  case  Mr.  Stone  is  so  ingeniously  build- 
ing up  against  Eunice !  You  are  getting  her  into  a 
desperate  coil,  from  which  it  will  be  difficult  to  ex- 
tricate her !  If  Shane  got  hold  of  this  absurd  yarn — " 

"  It's  not  entirely  absurd,"  broke  in  Stone,  "  but 
I  agree  with  you,  Mr.  Elliott;  if  Shane  learns  of  it — 
he  won't  investigate  any  further!  " 

"  He  shan't  know  of  it,"  was  the  angry  retort. 
"  I  got  you  here,  Mr.  Stone " 

"To  discover  the  truth,  or  to  free  Mrs.  Embury  ?" 


THE  FIVE  SENSES  243 

There  was  a  pause,  and  the  two  men  looked  at 
each  other.  Then  Mason  Elliott  said,  in  a  low  voice, 
"  To  free  Mrs.  Embury." 

"  I  can't  take  the  case  that  way,"  Stone  replied. 
"  I  will  abandon  the  whole  affair,  or — I  will  find 
out  the  truth." 

"  Abandon  it !  "  cried  a  ringing  voice,  and  the 
door  of  her  bedroom  was  flung  open  as  Eunice 
again  appeared. 

She  was  in  a  towering  fury,  her  face  was  white 
and  her  lips  compressed  to  a  straight  scarlet  line. 

"  Give  up  the  case !  I  will  take  my  chances  with 
any  judge  or  jury  rather  than  with  you !  "  She 
faced  Stone  like  the  "  Tiger  "  her  husband  had  nick- 
named her.  "  I  have  heard  every  word — Aunt 
Abby's  story — and  your  conclusions !  Your  despic- 
able '  deductions/  as  I  suppose  you  call  them !  I've 
had  enough  of  the  '  celebrated  detective ' !  Quite 
enough  of  Fleming  Stone — and  his  work !  " 

She  stepped  back  and  gazed  at  him  with  utter 
scorn — beautiful  as  a  sculptured  Medea,  haughty 
as  a  tragedy  queen. 

"  Independent  as  a  pig  on  ice ! "  Fibsy  com- 
municated with  himself,  and  he  stared  at  her  with 
undisguised  admiration. 

"  Eunice,"  and  the  pain  in  Mason  Elliott's  voice 
was  noticeable;  "Eunice,  dear,  don't  do  yourself 
such  injustice." 


244  RASPBERRY  JAM. 

"  Why  not  ?  When  everybody  is  unjust  to  me ! 
YOU,  Mason,  you  and  this — this  infallible  detective 
sit  here  and  deliberately  build  up  what  you  call  a 
'case'  against  me — me,  Eunice  Embury!  Oh — I 
hate  you  all !  " 

A  veritable  figure  of  hate  incarnate,  she  stood, 
her  white  hands  clasping  each  other  tightly,  as  they 
hung  against  her  black  gown.  Her  head  held  high, 
her  whole  attitude  fiercely  defiant,  she  flung  out  her 
words  with  a  bitterness  that  betokened  the  end  of 
her  endurance — the  limit  of  her  patience. 

Then  her  hands  fell  apart,  her  whole  body 
drooped,  and  sinking  down  on  the  wide  sofa,  she 
sat,  hopelessly  facing  them,  but  with  head  erect  and 
the  air  of  one  vanquished  but  very  much  unsubdued. 

"  Take  that  back,  Eunice,"  Elliott  spoke  passion- 
ately, and  quite  as  if  there  were  no  others  present; 
"  you  do  not  hate  me — I  am  here  to  help  you !  " 

"You  can't,  Mason;  no  one  can  help  me.  No 
one  can  protect  me  from  Fleming  Stone! " 

The  name  was  uttered  with  such  scorn  as  to  seem 
an  invective  of  itself! 

Stone  betrayed  no  annoyance  at  her  attitude 
toward  him,  but  rather  seemed  impressed  with  her 
personality.  He  gave  her  a  glance  that  was  not  un- 
tinged  with  admiration,  but  he  made  no  defence. 

"  I  can,"  cried  Fibsy,  who  was  utterly  routed  by 
Eunice's  imperious  beauty.  "  You  go  ahead  with 


THE  FIVE  SENSES  245 

Mr.  F.  Stone,  ma'am,  and  I'll  see  to  it  that  they 
ain't  no  injustice  done  to  you!  " 

Stone  looked  at  his  excited  young  assistant  with 
surprise,  and  then  good-naturedly  contented  him- 
self with  a  shake  of  his  head,  and  a 

"  Careful,  Terence." 

"  Yes,  sir — but,  oh,  Mr.  Stone — "  and  then,  at 
a  gesture  from  the  great  detective  the  boy  paused, 
abashed,  and  remained  silent. 

"  Now,  Miss  Ames,"  Stone  began,  "  in  Mrs. 
Embury's  presence,  I'll  ask  you " 

"  You  won't  ask  me  anything,  sir/'  she  returned 
crisply.  "  I'm  going  out  I've  a  very  important 
errand  to  do." 

"Oh,  I  don't  know  about  that,"  Elliott  said; 
"it's  almost  six  o'clock,  Aunt  Abby.  Where  are 
you  going?" 

"  I've  got  an  errand — a  very  important  errand 
— an  appointment,  in  fact.  I  must  go — don't  you 
dare  oppose  me,  Mason.  You'll  be  sorry  if  you  do !  " 

Even  as  she  spoke,  the  old  lady  was  scurrying 
to  her  room,  from  which  she  returned  shortly, 
garbed  for  the  street. 

"All  right,"  Stone  said,  in  reply  to  a  whisper 
from  Fibsy,  and  the  boy  offered,  respectfully: 

"  Let  me  go  with  you,  Miss  Ames.  It  ain't 
fittin'  you  should  go  alone.  It's  'most  dark." 


246  RASPBERRY  JAM 

"  Come  on,  boy,"  Aunt  Abby  regarded  him 
kindly;  "  I'd  be  glad  of  your  company." 

At  the  street  door,  the  old  lady  asked  for  a  taxi- 
cab,  and  the  strangely  assorted  pair  were  soon  on 
their  way. 

"  You're  a  bright  lad,  Fibsy,"  she  said;  "  by  the 
way,  what's  your  real  name — I  forget." 

"  Terence,  ma'am;  Terence  McGuire.  I  wish't  I 
was  old  enough  to  be  called  McGuire !  I'd  like  that." 

"  I'll  call  you  that,  if  you  wish.  You're  old  for 
your  age,  I'm  sure.  How  old  are  you?  " 

"  Coin'  on  about  fifteen  or  sixteen — I  think.  I 
sort'a  forget." 

"  Nonsense !  You  can't  forget  your  age !  Why 
do  they  call  you  Fibsy?  " 

"  'Cause  I'm  a  born  liar — 'scuse  me — a  congeni- 
tal prevaricator,  I  meant  to  say.  You  see,  ma'am, 
it's  necessary  in  my  business  not  always  to  employ 
the  plain  unvarnished.  But  don't  be  alarmed, 
ma'am;  when  I  take  a  fancy  to  anybuddy,  as  I  have 
to  you,  ma'am,  I  don't  never  lie  to  'em.  Not  that  I 
s'pose  you'd  care,  eh,  ma'am  ?  " 

Aunt  Abby  laughed.  "  You  are  a  queer  lad ! 
Why,  I'm  not  sure  I'd  care,  if  it  didn't  affect  me 
in  any  way.  I'm  not  responsible  for  your  truthful- 
ness— though  I  don't  mind  advising  you  that  you 
ought  to  be  a  truthful  boy." 


THE  FIVE  SENSES  247 

"  Land,  ma'am !  Don't  you  s'pose  I  know  that  ? 
But,  honest  now,  are  you  always  just  exactly,  abser- 
lutely  truthful,  yourself  ?  " 

"  Certainly  I  am !  What  do  you  mean  by  speak- 
ing to  me  like  that  ?  " 

"  Well,  don't  you  ever  touch  up  a  yarn  a  little — 
jest  sort'a  to  make  it  more  interestin'  like?  Most 
ladies  do — that  is,  most  ladies  of  intelligence  and 
brains — which  you  sure  have  got  in  plenty !  " 

"  There,  there,  boy ;  I'm  afraid  I've  humored 
you  too  much — you're  presuming." 

"  I  presume  I  am.  But  one  question  more,  while 
we're  on  this  absorbin'  subject.  Didn't  you,  now, 
just  add  a  jot  or  a  tittle  to  that  ghost  story  you  put 
over?  Was  it  every  bit  on  the  dead  level?  " 

"  Yes,  child,"  Aunt  Abby  took  his  question  seri- 
ously; "  it  was  every  word  true.  I  didn't  make  up 
the  least  word  of  it !  " 

"  I  believe  you,  ma'am,  and  I  congratulate  you 
on  your  clarviant  powers.  Now,  about  that  rasp- 
berry jam,  ma'am.  That's  a  mighty  unmistakable 
taste — ain't  it,  now  ?  " 

"  It  is,  McGuire.  It  certainly  is.  And  I  tasted 
it,  just  as  surely  as  I'm  here  telling  you  about  it." 

"  Have  you  had  it  for  supper  lately,  ma'am  ?  " 

"  No ;  Eunice  hasn't  had  it  on  her  table  since 
I've  been  visiting  her." 

"Is  that  so,  ma'am?" 


CHAPTER  XV 

MARIGNY  THE  MEDIUM 

THE  journey  ended  at  the  rooms  of  Marigny, 
the  psychic  recommended  by  Willy  Hanlon. 

As  Fibsy,  his  bright  eyes  wide  with  wonder, 
found  himself  in  the  unmistakable  surroundings  of 
dingy  draperies,  a  curtained  cabinet  and  an  odor 
of  burning  incense,  he  exclaimed  to  himself,  "  Gee! 
a  clarviant !  Now  for  some  fun !  " 

Aunt  Abby,  apparently  aware  of  the  proprieties 
of  the  occasion,  seated  herself,  and  waited  patiently. 

At  a  gesture  from  her,  Fibsy  obediently  took  a 
seat  near  her,  and  waited  quietly,  too. 

Soon  the  psychic  entered.  He  was  robed  in  a 
long,  black  garment,  and  wore  a  heavy,  white  turban, 
swathed  in  folds.  His  face  was  olive-colored — what 
was  visible  of  it — for  his  beard  was  white  and  flow- 
ing, and  a  heavy  drooping  moustache  fell  over  his 
lips.  Locks  of  white  hair  showed  from  the  turban's 
edge,  and  a  pair  of  big,  rubber-rimmed  glasses  of 
an  amber  tint  partially  hid  his  eyes. 

The  whole  make-up  was  false,  it  was  clear  to 
be  seen,  but  a  psychic  has  a  right  to  disguise  himself, 
if  he  choose. 
248 


MARIGNY  THE  MEDIUM  249 

Fibsy  gave  Marigny  one  quick  glance  and  then 
the  boy  assumed  an  expression  of  face  quite  different 
from  his  usual  one.  He  managed  to  look  positively 
vacant-minded.  His  eyes  became  lack-luster,  his 
mouth,  slightly  open,  looked  almost  imbecile,  and  his 
roving  glance  betokened  no  interest  whatever  in 
the  proceedings. 

"  Mr.  Marigny  ? "  said  Miss  Ames,  eagerly 
anxious  for  the  seance  to  begin. 

"  Yes,  madam.    You  are  three  minutes  late !  " 

"  I  couldn't  help  it — the  traffic  is  very  heavy  at 
this  hour." 

"  And  you  should  have  come  alone.  I  cannot 
concentrate  with  an  alien  influence  in  the  room." 

"  Oh,  the  boy  isn't  an  alien  influence.  He's  a  lit- 
tle friend  of  mine — he'll  do  no  harm." 

"  I'll  go  out,  if  you  say,  mister,"  Fibsy  turned 
his  indifferent  gaze  on  the  clairvoyant. 

"  You'll  do  nothing  of  the  sort,"  spoke  up  Miss 
Ames.  "  I'm  accustomed  to  seances,  Mr.  Marigny, 
and  if  you're  all  right — as  I  was  told  you  were — a 
child's  presence  won't  interfere." 

Evidently  the  psychic  saw  he  had  no  novice  to 
deal  with,  and  he  accepted  the  situation. 

"  What  do  you  want  to  know  ?  "  he  asked  his 
client. 

"  Who  killed  Sanf ord  Embury— or,  did  he  kill 


250  RASPBERRY  JAM 

himself."  I  want  you  to  get  into  communication 
with  his  spirit  and  find  out  from  him.  But  I  don't 
want  any  make-believe.  If  you  can't  succeed,  that's 
all  right — I'll  pay  your  fee  just  the  same.  But 
no  poppycock." 

"  That's  the  way  to  look  at  it,  madam.  I  will  go 
into  the  silence,  and  I  will  give  you  only  such  in- 
formation as  I  get  myself." 

The  man  leaned  back  in  his  chair,  and  gradu- 
ally seemed  to  enter  a  hypnotic  state.  His  muscles 
relaxed,  his  face  became  still  and  set,  and  his  breath- 
ing was  slow  and  a  little  labored. 

Fibsy  retained  his  vacuous  look — he  even 
fidgeted  a  little,  in  a  bored  way — and  rarely  glanced 
toward  the  man  of  "  clear  sight." 

Miss  Ames,  though  anxious  for  results,  was  alert 
and  quite  on  her  guard  against  fraud.  Experienced 
in  fake  mediums,  she  believed  Willy  Hanlon's  asser- 
tion that  this  man  was  one  of  the  few  genuine 
mystics,  but  she  proposed  to  judge  for  herself. 

At  last  Marigny  spoke.  His  voice  was  low,  his 
tones  monotonous  and  uninflected. 

"Aunt  Abby — Aunt  Westminster  Abbey " 

the  words  came  slowly. 

Miss  Ames  gave  a  startled  jump.  Her  face 
blanched  and  she  trembled  as  she  clutched  Fib- 
sy's  arm. 


MARIGNY  THE  MEDIUM  251 

"  That's  what  Sanf  ord  used  to  call  me ! "  she 
whispered.  "  Can  it  really  be  his  spirit  talking  to 
me  through  the  medium !  " 

"  Don't  worry,"  the  voice  went  on,  "  don't  grieve 
for  me — it's  all  right — let  it  go  that  I  took  my 
own  life " 

"  But  did  you,  Sanf  ord — did  you  ?  "  Miss 
Ames  implored. 

"  It  would  be  better  you  should  never  know." 

"  I  niust  know.  I've  got  to  know !  Tell  me, 
Sanford.  It  wasn't  Eunice  ?  " 

"  No — it  wasn't  Eunice." 

"  Was  it — oh,  San— was  it— I  ?  " 

"Yes,  Aunt  Abby — it  was.  But  you  were  en- 
tirely irresponsible — you  were  asleep — hypnotized, 
perhaps — perhaps  merely  asleep." 

"  Where  did  I  get  the  stuff?  " 

"  I  think  somebody  hypnotized  you  and  gave  it 
to  you " 

"When?    Where?" 

"  I  don't  know — it  is  vague — uncertain — but  you 
put  it  in  my  ear — remember,  Aunt  Abby,  I  don't 
blame  you  at  all.  And  you  must  not  tell  this.  You 
must  let  it  go  as  suicide.  That  is  the  only  way  to 
save  yourself " 

"  But  they  suspect  Eunice " 

"  They'll  never  convict  her — nor   would   they 


252  RASPBERRY  JAM 

convict  you.  Tell  them  you  got  into  communication 
with  my  spirit  and  I  said  it  was  suicide." 

"Ask  him  about  the  raspberry  jam,"  put  in 
Fibsy,  in  a  stage  whisper. 

"What!"  the  medium  came  out  of  his  trance 
suddenly  and  glared  at  the  boy. 

"  I  told  you  I  could  do  nothing  if  the  child 
stayed  here,"  Marigny  cried,  evidently  in  a  towering 
passion.  "  Put  him  out.  Who  is  he?  What  is 
he  talking  about  ?  " 

"  Nothing  of  importance.  Keep  still,  McGuire. 
Can  you  get  Mr.  Embury's  spirit  back,  sir?  " 

"  No,  the  communion  is  too  greatly  disturbed. 
Boy,  what  do  you  mean  by  raspberry  jam?  " 

"Oh,  nothin',"  and  Fibsy  wriggled  bashfully. 
"  You  tell  him,  Miss  Ames." 

It  needed  little  encouragement  to  launch  Aunt 
Abby  on  the  story  of  her  "  vision  "  and  she  told  it 
in  full  detail. 

Marigny  seemed  interested,  though  a  little  im- 
patient, and  tried  to  hurry  the  recital. 

"It  was,  without  doubt,  Embury's  spirit,"  he 
said,  as  Aunt  Abby  finished ;  "  but  your  imagination 
has  exaggerated  and  elaborated  the  facts.  For  in- 
stance, I  think  the  jam  and  the  gasoline  are  added 
by  your  fancy,  in  order  to  fill  out  the  full  tale  of 
your  five  senses." 


MARIGNY  THE  MEDIUM  253 

"  That's  what  I  thought,"  and  Fibsy  nodded  his 
head.  "  Raspberry  jam !  Oh,  gee !  "  he  exploded 
in  a  burst  of  silly  laughter. 

Marigny  looked  at  him  with  a  new  interest.  The 
amber-colored  glasses  turned  toward  the  boy  seemed 
to  frighten  him,  and  he  began  to  whimper. 

"  I  didn't  mean  any  harm,"  he  said,  "but  rasp- 
berry jam  was  so  funny  for  a  ghost  to  have  on  him !" 

"  It  would  have  been,"  assented  Marigny,  "  but 
that,  I  feel  sure,  existed  only  in  Miss  Ames'  fancy. 
Her  mind,  upset  by  the  vision,  had  strange  hal- 
lucinations, and  the  jam  was  one — you  know  we 
often  have  grotesque  dreams." 

"So  we  do,"  agreed  Fibsy;  "why  once  I 
drempt  that " 

"  Excuse  me,  young  sir,  but  I've  no  time  to 
listen  to  your  dreams.  The  seance  is  at  an  end, 
madam.  Your  companion  probably  cut  it  off  pre- 
maturely— but  perhaps  not.  Perhaps  the  communi- 
cation was  about  over,  anyway.  Are  you  satisfied, 
Miss  Ames?  " 

"Yes,  Mr.  Marigny.  I  know  the  appearance 
of  Mr.  Embury  was  a  genuine  visitation,  for  he 
called  me  by  a  peculiar  name  which  no  one  else  ever 
used,  and  which  you  could  not  possibly  know  about." 

"  That  is  indeed  a  positive  test.    I  am  glad  you 


254  RASPBERRY  JAM 

received  what  you  wished  for.  The  fee  is  ten 
dollars,  madam." 

Aunt  Abby  paid  it  willingly  enough,  and  with 
Fibsy,  took  her  departure. 

On  reaching  home  they  found  Alvord  Hendricks 
there.  Mason  Elliott  had  tarried  and  Fleming 
Stone,  too,  was  still  there.  Eunice  was  awaiting 
Aunt  Abby's  return  to  have  dinner  served. 

"  I  thought  you'd  never  come,  Auntie,"  said 
Eunice,  greeting  her  warmly.  Eunice  was  in  a  most 
pleasant  mood,  and  seemed  to  have  become  entirely 
reconciled  to  the  presence  of  Stone. 

"  You  will  dine  here,  too,  Terence,"  she  said 
kindly  to  the  boy,  who  replied,  "  Yes,  ma'am/* 
very  respectfully. 

"  Well,  Eunice,"  Aunt  Abby  announced,  after 
they  were  seated  at  the  table,  "  I'm  the  criminal, 
after  all." 

"  You  seem  pretty  cheerful  about  it,"  said  Hen- 
dricks, looking  at  her  in  astonishment 

"  Well,  I  wasn't  responsible.  I  did  it  under  com- 
pulsory hypnotism." 

"  You  owned  up  to  it  before,  Aunt  Abby,"  said 
Eunice,  humoring  her;  "you  said " 

"  I  know,  Eunice,  but  that  time  it  was  to  shield 
you.  Now,  I  know  for  certain  that  I  did  do  it,  and 
how  it  came  about." 


MARIGNY  THE  MEDIUM  £55 

"Dear  Aunt  Abby,"  and  Elliott  spoke  very 
gently,  "  don't  you  talk  about  it  any  more.  Your 
vagaries  are  tolerated  by  us,  who  love  you,  but  Mr. 
Stone  is  bored  by  them " 

"  Not  at  all,"  said  Fleming  Stone ;  "  on  the  con- 
trary, I'm  deeply  interested.  Tell  me  all  about  it, 
Miss  Ames.  Where  have  you  been  ?  " 

Thus  encouraged,  Aunt  Abby  told  all. 

She  described  the  seance  truthfully,  Fibsy's 
bright  eyes — not  lack-luster  now — darting  glances 
at  her  and  at  Stone  as  the  tale  proceeded. 

"  He  was  the  real  thing — wasn't  he,  McGuire?  " 
Miss  Ames  appealed  to  him,  at  last. 

"You  bet!  Why,  if  the  side  wire  of  his  beard 
hadn't  fetched  loose  and  if  his  walnut  juice  com- 
plexion hadn't  stopped  a  mite  short  of  his  collar, 
I'd  a  took  him  for  a  sure-fire  Oriental ! " 

"  Don't  be  so  impertinent,  Terence,"  reproved 
Stone;  "  Miss  Ames  knows  better  than  you  do." 

"  It  doesn't  matter  that  he  was  made  up  that 
way,"  Aunt  Abby  said,  serenely;  "they  often  do 
that.  But  he  was  genuine,  I  know,  because — why, 
Eunice,  what  did  Sanford  use  to  call  me — for  fun — 
Aunt  what?" 

"Aunt  Westminter  Abbey,"  said  Eunice,  smil- 
ing at  the  recollection. 

"Yes!"  triumphantly;  "and  that's  what  San- 


256  RASPBERRY  JAM 

ford  called  me  to-day  when  speaking  to  me  through 
the  medium.  Isn't  that  a  proof?  How  could  that 
man  know  that?  " 

"  I  can't  explain  that,"  declared  Elliott,  a  little 
shortly,  "  but  it's  all  rubbish,  and  I  don't  think  you 
ought  to  be  allowed  to  go  to  such  places!  It's 
disgraceful " 

"  You  hush  up,  Mason,"  Miss  Ames  cried;  "  I'll 
go  where  I  like !  I'm  not  a  child.  And,  too,  I  wasn't 
alone — I  had  an  escort — a  very  nice  one."  She 
looked  kindly  at  Fibsy. 

"  Thank  you,  ma'am,"  he  returned,  bobbing  his 
funny  red  head.  "  I  sure  enjoyed  myself." 

"  You  didn't  look  so;  you  looked  half  asleep." 

"  I  always  enjoy  myself  when  I'm  asleep — and 
half  a  loaf  is  better'n  no  bed,"  the  boy  grinned  at  her. 

"  Well,  it  may  all  be  rubbish,"  Alvord  Hendricks 
said,  musingly;  "and  it  probably  is — but  there  are 
people,  Mason,  who  don't  think  so.  Anyway,  here's 
my  idea.  If  Aunt  Abby  thinks  she  poisoned  San- 
ford,  under  hypnotism — or  any  other  way — for  the 
love  of  heaven,  let  it  go  at  that !  If  you  don't — sus- 
picion will  turn  back  to  Eunice  again — and  that's 
what  we  want  to  prevent.  Now,  no  jury  would  ever 
convict  an  old  lady " 

"Nor  any  woman,"  said  Elliott.  "But  that 
isn't  the  whole  thing.  I  say,  Alvord,  since  Mr.  Stone 


MARIGNY  THE  MEDIUM  257 

is  on  the  job,  suppose  we  give  him  full  swing — and 
let  him  find  the  real  murderer.  It  wasn't  Eunice !  " 

His  words  rang  out  so  vibrantly  that  Stone  gave 
him  a  quick  glance.  "You're  sure?"  he  asked,  as 
it  seemed,  involuntarily. 

"  I  am,"  responded  Elliott,  with  a  satisfied  nod 
of  his  handsome  head. 

"  But  your  being  sure  doesn't  help  much,  Ma- 
son," Eunice  said,  a  despondent  look  coming  into 
her  eyes.  "  Are  you  sure,  Mr.  Stone?  " 

"  I  can't  quite  answer  that  question  yet,  Mrs. 
Embury,"  the  courteous  voice  replied.  "  Remem- 
ber, I've  only  just  begun  to  look  into  the  matter." 

"  But  you  know  all  about  it — from  Mr.  Shane 
and  Mr.  Driscoll." 

"  I  know  what  they  think  about  it — but  that's  a 
different  story." 

"  You  don't  agree  with  their  deductions,  then?  " 
asked  Hendricks. 

"  I  don't  agree  with  their  premises — there- 
fore— "  Stone  smiled  cryptically,  and  left  the  sen- 
tence unfinished  and  ambiguous,  which  was  his  de- 
liberate intention. 

"  We  will  have  coffee  in  the  living-room,"  said 
Eunice,  as  she  rose  from  the  table.  Always  a  charm- 
ing hostess,  she  was  at  her  best  to-night.  Her  thin 
17 


258  RASPBERRY  JAM 

black  gown  was  becoming  and  made  her  fair  throat 
and  arms  seem  even  whiter  by  contrast. 

She  stood  back,  as  the  others  left  the  room,  and 
Hendricks,  tarrying,  too,  came  close  to  her. 

"  Brace  up,  dear,"  he  said ;  "  it  will  all  come  out 
right.  I'm  sorry  Elliott  dragged  in  this  Stone,  but — 
it  will  be  all  right,  somehow." 

"  But  it's  all  so  mysterious,  Alvord.  I  don't 
know  what  to  do — or  say " 

"  Don't  lose  your  temper,  Eunice.  Let  me  ad- 
vise you  strongly  as  to  that.  It  never  does  any  good 
— it  militates  against  you.  And  here's  another  thing : 
Are  you  afraid  of  the  little  Desternay  ?  " 

"  Afraid — how  ?  "  but  Eunice  paled. 

"  Afraid — she  knows  something — oh,  something 
injurious  to " 

"To  me?  She  knows  heaps!"  The  haughty 
head  tossed,  and  Eunice  looked  defiant. 

"  You  beauty ! "  and  Hendricks  took  a  step 
nearer.  "  Oh,  you  splendid  thing !  How  I  adore 
you.  Eunice — you  are  a  goddess  to-night!  And 
you  are  for  me!  Some  day — oh,  I'm  not  going  to 
say  it  now — don't  look  so  alarmed — but,  you  know 
— oh,  Sweet,  you  know!  And  you — yes,  you,  too, 
my  splendid  Tiger " 

"  Hush,  Alvord !    Never  call  me  that !  " 

"  No,  I  beg  pardon.    And  I  don't  want  to.    That 


MARIGNY  THE  MEDIUM  259 

was  San's  own  name  for  you.  I  shall  call  you  my 
Queen !  My  glorious  Queen-woman !  " 

"  Oh,  stop !    Don't  you  dare  make  love  to  me !  " 

"  And  don't  you  dare  say  '  dare '  to  me !  I 
dare  all " 

Ferdinand's  entrance  cut  short  this  dialogue,  and 
Eunice  and  Hendricks  went  into  the  other  room. 

Almost  immediately  a  visitor  was  announced, 
and  Hanlon  came  in. 

"  Why,  Mr.  Hanlon,"  Eunice  said,  greeting  him 
cordially,  "  I'm  glad  to  see  you  again." 

"  So  am  I,"  cried  Aunt  Abby,  hastening  to  wel- 
come the  newcomer.  "  Oh,  Mr.  Hanlon,  I  went  to 
see  your  man — Mr.  Marigny,  you  know " 

"Yes?  I  called  to  see  if  you  had  found  him 
all  right." 

The  necessary  introductions  were  made,  and 
Hanlon  took  his  place  in  the  group. 

He  was  a  little  ill  at  ease,  for  he  was  by  no  means 
a  member  of  "  society,"  and  though  he  had  been  at 
the  Embury  house  before,  he  seemed  a  trifle  in  awe 
of  his  surroundings. 

"  And  I  called,  too,"  Hanlon  said,  "  to  offer  you 
my  respectful  sympathy,  Mrs.  Embury,  and  ask  if 
there's  anything  I  can  do  for  you." 

"  Why,  you're  very  kind,"  said  Eunice,  touched 


260  RASPBERRY  JAM 

by  his  thought  fulness,  "  but  I'm  afraid  there's  noth- 
ing you — anybody  can  do  for  me." 

"  F.  Stone  can,"  declared  Fibsy ;  "  he  can  do  a 
lot  for  you,  Mrs.  Embury."  The  red  head  nodded 
vigorously,  as  was  the  boy's  habit,  when  much 
in  earnest. 

Hanlon  regarded  him  closely,  and  Fibsy  returned 
the  scrutiny. 

"  Say,"  the  boy  broke  out,  suddenly.  "  I've  seen 
you  before.  You're  the  man  who  found  the  hidden 
jack-knife,  in  Newark!  " 

"  The  same,"  and  Hanlon  smiled  at  him.  "Were 
you  present  ?  " 

"  I  sure  was !    Gee !    You're  a  wonder !  " 

"  I  was  a  wonder,  but  I  don't  do  wonderful 
things  any  more." 

"  What  do  you  do  now  ?  " 

"  Yes,"  chimed  in  Eunice,  "  what  are  you  doing, 
Mr.  Hanlon  ?  You  told  me  you  were  going  to  take 
up  a  different  line  of  work." 

"  I  did,  Mrs.  Embury;  I'm  a  prosaic  and  unin- 
teresting painter  man  nowadays." 

"An  artist?" 

"  In  a  way,"  and  Hanlon  smiled ;  "  I  paint  signs 
— and  I  try  to  do  them  artistically." 

"  Signs !  How  dull  for  you — after  your  excit- 
ing performances !  " 

"  Not  so  very  dull,"  interrupted  Aunt  Abby.    "  I 


MARIGNY  THE  MEDIUM  2til 

know  about  the  signs  Mr.  Hanlon  paints !  They're 
bigger'n  a  house !  They're — why,  they're  scenery — 
don't  you  know? — like  you  see  along  the  railroad — I 
mean  along  the  meadows  when  you're  riding  in 
the  cars." 

"  Oh,  scenic  advertising,"  observed  Fleming 
Stone.  "  And  signs  on  the  Palisades " 

"  Not  on  the  natural  scenery,"  laughed  Hanlon. 
"  Though  I've  been  tempted  by  high  rocks  or 
smooth-sided  crags." 

"  Are  you  a  steeple-jack  ?  "  asked  Fibsy,  his  eyes 
sparkling;  "  can  you  paint  spires  and  things?  " 

"No;"  and  Hanlon  looked  at  the  boy,  regret- 
fully. "  I  can't  do  that.  I'm  no  climber.  I  make 
the  signs  and  then  they're  put  where  they  belong  by 
other  workmen." 

"  Oh,"  and  Fibsy  looked  disappointed  at  not 
finding  the  daring  hero  he  sought  for. 

"  I  must  not  presume  further  on  your  kindness, 
Mrs.  Embury,"  Hanlon  said,  with  an  attempt  at 
society  jargon,  "  I  merely  called  in  for  a  minute. 
Mr.  Hendricks,  are  you  going  my  way  ?  I  want  to 
see  you  about  that  sign " 

"  No,  Hanlon — sorry,  but  I'm  not  going  now," 
and  Hendricks  shook  his  head.  "  I'm  here  for 
the  evening." 


262  RASPBERRY  JAM 

"  All  right — see  you  later,  then.  Where  can  I 
find  you?  I'm  something  of  an  owl,  myself." 

"  I'll  call  you  up  after  I  get  home — if  it  isn't  too 
late,"  Hendricks  suggested. 

"Never  too  late  for  me.  See  that  you  remember." 

Hanlon  looked  at  Hendricks  with  more  serious- 
-ness  than  the  subject  appeared  to  call  for,  then  he 
went  away. 

"  You  got  the  earache?  "  asked  Fibsy  suddenly, 
of  Hendricks,  as  that  gentleman  half  absently 
rubbed  his  ear. 

"  Bless  my  soul,  no !  What  do  you  mean  by 
such  a  question?  Mr.  Stone,  this  boy  of  yours  is 
too  fresh ! " 

"  Be  quiet,  Terence,"  said  Stone,  paying  but 
slight  attention  to  the  matter. 

"  Oh,  all  right,  no  offense  meant,"  and  the  boy 
grinned  at  Hendricks.  "  But  didn't  you  ever  have 
an  earache?  If  not,  you  don't  know  what  real 
sufferin'  is !  " 

"  No,  I  never  had  it,  that  I  remember.  Perhaps 
as  a  child " 

"  Why,  Alvord,"  said  Aunt  Abby,  "  you  had  it 
fearfully  about  a  month  ago.  Don't  you  recollect? 
You  were  afraid  of  mastoiditis." 

"  Oh,  that.  Well,  that  was  a  serious  illness.  I 
was  thinking  of  an  ordinary  earache,  when  I  said  I 


MARIGNY  THE  MEDIUM  263 

never  had  one.    But  I  beg  of  you  drop  the  subject  of 
my  ailments !    What  a  thing  to  discuss !  " 

"  True  enough,"  agreed  Stone,  "  I  propose  we 
keep  to  the  theme  under  consideration.  I've  been 
engaged  to  look  into  this  murder  mystery.  I'm  here 
for  that  purpose.  I  must  insist  that  I  conduct  my 
investigation  in  my  own  way." 

"  That's  the  right  talk,"  approved  Elliott.  "Now, 
Mr.  Stone,  let's  get  right  down  to  it." 

"  Very  well,  the  case  stands  thus :  Shane  says — 
and  it's  perfectly  true — there  are  five  possible  sus- 
pects. But  only  one  of  these  had  both  motive  and 
opportunity.  Now,  the  whole  five  are  here  present, 
and,  absurd  though  it  may  seem,  I'm  going  to  ask 
each  one  of  you  the  definite  question.  Ferdinand," 
he  raised  his  voice  and  the  butler  came  in  from  the 
dining-room,  "did  you  kill  your  master?" 

"  No,  God  hearing  me — I  didn't,  sir."  The  man 
was  quiet  and  composed,  though  his  face  was 
agonized. 

"  That  will  do,  you  may  go,"  said  Stone.  "  Mr. 
Elliott,  did  you  kill  your  friend — your  partner 
in  business  ?  " 

"  I  did  not,"  said  Elliott,  curtly.  He  was  evi- 
dently ill-pleased  at  the  question. 

"Mr.  Hendricks,  did  you?" 

"  As  I  have  repeatedly  proved,  I  was  in  Boston 


264  RASPBERRY  JAM 

that  night.  It  would  be  impossible  for  me  to  be  the 
criminal — but  I  will  answer  your  ridiculous  query — 
I  did  not." 

"  Mrs.  Embury,  did  you?  " 

"  N — no — but  I  would  rather  be  suspected,  than 
to  have " 

"  You  said  no,  I  believe,"  Stone  interrupted  her. 
"  Miss  Ames,  do  you  really  think  you  killed  your 
niece's  husband  ?  " 

"  Oh,  sir— I  don't  know !    I  can't  think  I  did—" 

"Of  course,  you  didn't,  Aunt  Abby!"  Mason 
Elliott  rose  from  his  seat  and  paced  up  and  down  the 
room.  "  I  must  say,  Mr.  Stone,  this  is  a  childish 
performance!  What  makes  you  think  any  of  us 
would  say  so,  if  we  had  killed  Embury?  It  is  ut- 
terly absurd ! " 

"  You're  absurd,  Elliott,"  cut  in  Hendricks. 
"  Mr.  Stone  is  a  psychologist.  He  learns  what  he 
wants  to  know  not  from  what  we  say — but  the  way 
we  say  it.  Right,  Mr.  Stone?  " 

"  Right,  Mr.  Hendricks."  Stone  looked  grave. 
"  Anything  more  to  say,  Mr.  Elliott  ?  " 

"  Yes,  I  have !  And  it's  this :  I  asked  you  to 
come  here.  I  asked  you  to  take  this  case — as  you've 
already  surmised — to  free  Mrs.  Embury  from 
wrongful  suspicion.  Wrongful,  mind  you!  I  do 
not  want  you  to  clear  her  if  she  is  guilty.  But  she 


MARIGNY  THE  MEDIUM  265 

isn't.  Therefore,  I  want  you  to  find  the  real  crimi- 
nal. That's  what  /  want !  " 

"  And  that's  what  I'm  doing." 

"  Of  course  he  is,"  Eunice  defended  him.  "  I 
wish  you'd  keep  still,  Mason !  You  talk  too  much — 
and  you  interfere  with  Mr.  Stone's  methods." 

"  Perhaps  I'd  better  go  home,  Eunice."  Elliott 
was  clearly  offended.  "  If  you  don't  want  me  here, 
I'll  go." 

"  Oh,  no—"  Eunice  began,  but  Hendricks  said, 
"  Go  on,  Elliott,  do.  There  are  too  many  of  us  here, 
and  as  Eunice's  counsel,  I  can  look  after  her 
interests." 

Mason  Elliott  rose,  and  turned  to  Eunice. 

"  Shall  I  go  ?  "  he  said,  and  he  gave  her  a  look 
of  entreaty — a  look  of  yearning,  pleading  love. 

"Go,"  she  said,  coldly.  "Alvord  will  take 
care  of  me." 

And  Elliott  went. 


CHAPTER  XVI 

FIBSY'S  BUSY  DAY 

"  IT'S  this  way,  F.  Stone,"  said  Fibsy,  earnestly, 
"  the  crooks  of  the  situation " 

"The  what?" 

"  The  crooks — that's  what  they  call  it " 

"  Oh,  the  crux."    Stone  did  not  laugh. 

"Yessir — if  that's  how  you  pronounce  it. 
Guess  I'll  stick  to  plain  English.  Well,  to  my  way 
of  thinkin',  the  little  joker  in  the  case  is  that  there 
raspberry  jam,  I'm  a  strong  believer  in  raspberry 
jam  on  general  principles,  but  in  pertikler,  I  should 
say  in  this  present  case,  raspberry  jam  will  win  the 
war!  Don't  eat  it!" 

"  Thought  you  were  going  to  talk  plain  English. 
You're  cryptic,  my  son." 

"  All  right — here  goes.  That  jam  business  is 
straight  goods.  The  old  lady  says  she  tasted  jam — 
and  she  did  taste  jam.  That's  all  there  is  about  that. 
And  that  sweet,  pleasant,  innercent  raspberry  jam 
will  yet  send  the  moiderer  of  Mr.  Embury  to 
the  chair ! " 

"  I  think  myself  there's  something  to  be  looked 
into  there,  but  how  are  you  going  about  it?  " 
266 


FIBSY'S  BUSY  DAY  267 

"  Dunno  yet — but  here's  another  thing,  Mr. 
Stone,  that  I  ain't  had  time  to  tell  you  yet,  that " 

"  Suppose  you  begin  at  the  beginning  and  tell  me 
your  story  in  order." 

"  Supposin'  I  do !  "  Fibsy  thought  a  moment 
before  he  began.  It  was  the  morning  after  the  two 
had  dined  at  the  Embury  home,  and  they  were  break- 
fasting together  in  Stone's  hotel  apartment. 

"  Well,  Mr.  Stone,  as  you  know,  I  left  Mrs. 
Embury's  last  night  d'reckly  after  Mr.  Hendricks 
took  his  dee-parture.  As  I  s'pected,  there  was 
trouble  a-waitin'  for  him.  Just  outside  the  street 
doorway,  that  Hanlon  chap  was  standing  and  he 
met  up  with  Mr.  Hendricks — much  to  the  dismay 
of  the  latter ! " 

"  Your  English  is  fine  this  morning — go  ahead." 

"  Well — Hanlon  fell  into  step  like  with  Mr.  Hen- 
dricks, and  they  walked  along,  Hanlon  doing  the 
talking.  I  didn't  dare  get  close  enough  to  overhear 
them,  for  they're  both  live  wires,  and  I  don't  fool 
either  of  'em  into  thinking  meself  a  ninkypoop!  So 
I  trailed,  but  well  out'a  sight — and,  hold  on,  Mr. 
Stone,  while  I  tell  you  this.  The  fake  mejum  that 
Miss  Ames  went  to  see  yesterday  afternoon,  was 
none  other  than  friend  Hanlon  himself !  " 

"  What?    Fibs,  are  you  sure?  " 

"  Sure  as  shootin' !    I  spotted  him  the  minute  he 


268  RASPBERRY  JAM 

came  up  to  Mrs.  Embury's.  I  didn't  reckernize  him 
at  first  as  the  whiskered  Moses,  but  I  did  later.  You 
know,  Mr.  Stone,  I  saw  him  do  stunts  for  news- 
papers in  two  towns,  and  I  wonder  I  didn't  tumble 
to  him  in  the  spook-shop.  But  I  didn't — I  dessay 
because  when  I  saw  him  doing  his  mind-readin' 
tricks  outdoors  he  was  blindfolded,  which  some  con- 
cealed his  natural  scenery.  Well,  he  hadn't  more'n 
tripped  over  the  Embury  '  Welcome '  mat,  than  I 
was  onto  him.  Me  thinker  woiked  light  lightnin' 
and  I  had  him  ticketed  and  pigeon-holed  in  no  time." 

"  Is  he  mixed  up  in  the  Embury  case?  " 

"He's  mixed  up  with  Mr.  Hendricks  in  some 
way,  and  he  learned  from  Miss  Ames  that  Hendricks 
was  to  be  among  those  present,  so  he  made  up  foolish 
excuses  and  betook  himself  to  the  vicinity  of 
said  Hendricks." 

"Why?" 

"  Wanted  to  converse  with  him,  and  couldn't  get 
hold  of  him  otherwise.  Hendricks,  it  would  seem, 
didn't  hanker  for  said  conversation." 

"  I  remember  Hanlon  asked  Mr.  Hendricks  if 
he  were  going  his  way,  and  Hendricks  said  he  was 
going  to  spend  the  evening  where  he  was." 

"  Egg-zackly.  And  did.  But  all  the  same,  Han- 
lon waited.  And  a  wait  of  an  hour  and  a  half 
registers  patience  and  perseverance — to  my  mind." 


FIBSY'S  BUSY  DAY  269 

"Right  you  are!     And  you  trailed  the  pair?" 

"Did  I?"  Fibsy  fell  back  in  his  chair,  as  if 
exhausted.  "  I  followed  them  to  Mr.  Hendricks' 
home,  they  chatterin'  glibly  all  the  way — and  then 
after  a  few  minutes'  further  remarks  on  the  door- 
step Hendricks,  he  went  in — and  Hanlon — !  You 
know,  Mr.  Stone,  Hanlon's  nobody's  fool,  and  he 
knew  I  was  follerin'  him  as  well  as  he  knew  his 
name!  I  don't  know  how  he  knew  it — for  I  was 
most  careful  to  keep  out'a  sight,  but  all  the  same,  he 
did  know  it — and  what  do  you  think  he  did?  He 
led  me  a  chase  of  miles — and  miles — and  miles! 
That's  what  he  did !  " 

"  On  purpose?  " 

"On  purpose!  Laughin'  in  his  silly  sleeve!  I 
was  game.  I  trotted  along — but  bullieve  me!  I 
was  mad!  And  the  galoot  was  so  slick  about  it! 
,Why,  he  walked  up  Broadway  first — as  if  he  had  a 
business  appointment  in  a  desprit  hurry.  Then, 
having  reached  Hunderd  an'  Twenty-fi'th  Street,  he 
pauses  a  minute — to  be  sure  I'm  trailin',  the  vilyun ! 
and  then,  he  swings  East,  and  across  town,  and  turns 
South  again — oh,  well,  Mr.  Stone,  he  simpully 
makes  me  foller  him  till  I'm  that  dog-tired,  I  near 
drops  in  my  tracks.  And,  to  top  the  heap,  he  leads 
me  straight  to  this  hotel,  where  we're  stayin' — yes, 
sir!  right  here — and  makin'  a  sharp  turn,  he  says, 


270  RASPBERRY  JAM 

'  Good-night ! '  pleasant  like,  and  scoots  off.     Can 
you  beat  it  ?  " 

"  Poor  old  Fibs,  that  was  an  experience !  Looks 
like  the  Hanlon  person  is  one  to  be  reckoned  with. 
But  it  doesn't  prove  him  mixed  up  in  the  murder 
mystery  in  any  way." 

"  No,  sir,  it  don't.  It's  only  made  me  sore  on 
him — and  sore  on  my  own  account,  too !  "  Fibsy 
grinned  ruefully.  "  Me  feet's  that  blistered — and 
I'm  lame  all  over!  " 

"  Poor  boy !  You  see,  he's  a  sprinter  from  'way 
back.  His  stunts  on  that  newspaper  work  prove  he 
can  take  long  walks  without  turning  a  hair." 

"  Yes,  but  its  croolty  to  animiles  to  drag  a  young 
feller  like  me  along,  too.  I've  got  his  number.  Just 
you  wait,  Cele!  Remember,  Mr.  Stone,  he  played 
spook-catcher  to  Miss  Ames.  That  means  some- 
thing, sir." 

"  It  does,  indeed.  This  is  a  great  old  case, 
Fibsy.  Are  you  getting  a  line  on  it  ?  " 

"  I  think  so,  sir,"  and  the  lad  looked  very  earnest. 
"Are  you?" 

"  A  strange  one.  But,  yet,  a  line.  To-day,  Fibs, 
I  want  you  to  interview  that  Mrs.  Desternay.  You 
can  do  it  better  than  I.  Jolly  her  along,  and  find 
out  if  she's  friend  or  foe  of  Mrs.  Embury." 


FIBSY'S  BUSY  DAY  271 

"  Yessir.  An'  kin  I  do  a  little  sleuthin'  on 
my  own?  " 

"What  sort?" 

"  Legitermit — I  do  assure  you,  sir." 

When  Fibsy  assumed  this  deeply  earnest  air, 
Stone  knew  some  clever  dodge  was  in  his  mind,  and 
he  found  it  usually  turned  out  well,  so  he  said, 
"  Go  ahead,  my  boy ;  I  trust  you." 

"  Thank  yer,"  and  Fibsy  devoted  himself  to  the 
remainder  of  his  breakfast,  while  Stone  read  the 
morning  paper. 

An  hour  later  Terence  McGuire  presented  him- 
self at  the  Embury  home  and  asked  for  Miss  Ames. 

"  Good  morning,  ma'am,"  he  said,  as  he  smiled 
brightly  at  her.  "  Howja  like  to  join  me  in  a  bit  of 
investergation  that'll  proberly  end  up  in  a  s'lution 
of  the  mystery  ?  " 

"  I'd  like  it  first  rate,"  replied  Miss  Ames,  with 
enthusiasm.  "  When  do  we  begin  ?  " 

"Immejitly.     Where's  Mis'  Embury?" 

"  In  her  room." 

"  No  use  a-disturbin*  her,  but  I  want'a  see  the 
jersey — the  gymnasium  jersey  your  ghost  wore." 

Aunt  Abby  looked  disappointed.  She  had  hoped 
for  something  more  exciting. 


272  RASPBERRY  JAM 

But  she  said,  "  I'll  get  it,"  and  went  at  once  to 
Sanford  Embury's  room. 

"  Thank  you,"  said  Fibsy,  as  he  took  it.  But 
his  eager  scrutiny  failed  to  disclose  any  trace  of 
jam  on  its  sleeves. 

"Which  arm  did  you  bite?"  he  asked,  briefly. 

"  I  didn't  really  bite  at  all,"  Miss  Ames  returned. 
"  I  sort  of  made  a  snap  at  him — it  was  more  a 
nervous  gesture  than  an  intelligent  action.  And  I 
just  caught  a  bit  of  the  worsted  sleeve  between  my 
lips  for  an  instant — it  was,  let  me  see — it  must 
have  been  the  left  arm " 

"  Well,  we'll  examine  both  sleeves — and  I  regret 
to  state,  ma'am,  there's  no  sign  of  sticky  stuff.  This 
is  a  fine  specimen  of  a  jersey — I  never  saw  a  hand- 
somer one — but  there's  no  stain  on  it,  and  never 
has  been." 

"  Nor  has  it  ever  been  cleaned  with  gasoline," 
mused  Miss  Ames,  "  and  yet,  McGuire,  nothing,  to 
my  dying  day,  can  ever  convince  me  that  I  am  mis- 
taken on  those  two  subjects.  I'm  just  as  sure  as 
I  can  be." 

"  I'm  sure,  too.  Listen  here,  Miss  Ames. 
There's  a  great  little  old  revelation  due  in  about  a 
day  or  so,  and  I  wish  you'd  lay  low.  Will  you?  " 

"  What  do  you  mean?  " 

"Why,  don't  do  or  say  much  about  the  affair. 


FIBSY'S  BUSY  DAY  273 

Let  it  simmer.  I'm  on  the  warpath,  and  so's  Mr. 
Stone,  and  we're  comin'  out  on  top,  if  we  don't  have 
no  drawbacks.  So,  don't  trot  round  to  clarviants  or 
harp  on  that  there  '  vision  '  of  yours,  will  you?  " 

"  My  boy,  I'm  only  too  glad  to  keep  away  from 
the  subject.  I'm  worried  to  death  with  it  all.  And 
if  I  can't  do  any  good  by  my  efforts,  I'll  willingly 
'  lay  low  '  as  you  ask." 

"  All  right,  ma'am.  Now,  I'm  off,  and  I'll  be 
back  here  when  I  come  again.  So  long." 

Fibsy  went  down  in  the  service  elevator  and 
forthwith  proceeded  to  interview  the  rubbish  man 
of  the  house  and  some  other  functionaries. 

By  dint  of  much  prodding  of  memory,  assisted 
by  judicious  silver  offerings,  he  finally  learned  that 
there  was  an  apartment  occupied  by  a  couple  with 
four  children,  who,  it  appeared,  consumed  large 
quantities  of  jam  of  all  flavors.  At  least,  their  rub- 
bish was  bristling  with  empty  jam  pots,  and  the  de- 
duction was  logical. 

Seemingly  unimpressed,  Fibsy  declared  it  was 
pickle-fiends  he  was  searching  for,  and  departed,  out- 
wardly crestfallen,  but  inwardly  elated. 

Going  out  of  doors,  he  walked  to  the  corner  of 
Park  Avenue,  and  turned  into  the  side  street. 

Crossing  that  street  to  get  a  better  view,  he 
looked  up  the  side  of  the  big  apartment  house,  and 
18 


274  RASPBERRY  JAM 

and  his  gaze  paused  at  the  window  in  the  tenth  story 
which  was  in  Miss  Ames'  sleeping-room.  Two 
floors  below  this  was  the  apartment  of  the  family 
who  were  reputed  jam  eaters. 

Fibsy  looked  intently  at  all  the  windows.  The 
one  next  Miss  Ames'  was,  he  knew,  in  the  Embury's 
pantry.  Hence,  the  one  two  stories  below  was  in 
the  Patterson's  pantry — the  Pattersons  being  the 
aforesaid  family. 

And  to  the  boy's  astonished  and  delighted  eyes, 
there  on  the  pantry  window-sill  sat  what  was  un- 
mistakably a  jam  jar! 

So  far,  so  good.  But  what  did  it  mean  ?  Fibsy 
had  learned  that  Mr.  Patterson  was  a  member  of  the 
Metropolitan  Athletic  Club  and  was  greatly  inter- 
ested in  its  presidential  election — which  election, 
owing  to  the  death  of  one  of  the  candidates  had  been 
indefinitely  postponed. 

But  further  investigation  of  Mr,  Patterson  was 
too  serious  a  matter  for  the  boy  to  undertake.  It 
must  be  referred  to  Fleming  Stone. 

So  Fibsy  glued  his  eyes  once  more  to  that  fasci- 
nating jam  jar  up  on  the  eighth-story  window-sill, 
and  slowly  walked  away. 

Under  his  breath  he  was  singing,  "  Ras  Berry 
Jam!  Raz  Berry  Jam! "  to  the  tune  of  a  certain 


FIBSY'S  BUSY  DAY  275 

march  from  Lohengrin,  which  somehow  represented 
to  his  idea  the  high  note  of  triumph. 

He  proceeded  along  the  cross  street,  and  at  Fifth 
Avenue  he  entered  a  bus. 

His  next  errand  took  him  to  the  home  of 
Fifi  Desternay. 

By  some  ingenious  method  of  wheedling,  he  per- 
suaded the  doorman  to  acquaint  the  lady  with  the 
fact  of  his  presence,  and  when  she  came  into  the 
room  where  he  awaited  her  he  banked  on  his  nerve 
to  induce  her  to  grant  him  an  interview. 

"  You  know  me,"  he  said,  with  his  most  in- 
gratiating smile,  and  he  even  went  so  far  as  to  take 
her  beringed  little  hand  in  his  own  boyish  paw. 

"  I  do  not ! "  she  declared,  staring  at  him,  and 
then,  his  grin  proving  infectious,  she  added,  not  un- 
kindly, "  Who  are  you,  child?  " 

"  I  wish  I  was  a  society  reporter  or  a  photog- 
rapher, or  anybody  who  could  do  justice  to  your 
wonderful  charms!" 

His  gaze  of  admiration  was  so  sincere  that  Fifi 
couldn't  resent  it. 

She  often  looked  her  best  in  the  morning,  and 
her  dainty  negligee  and  bewitching  French  cap  made 
her  a  lovely  picture. 

She  tucked  herself  into  a  big,  cushioned  chair, 


276  RASPBERRY  JAM 

and  drawing  a  smoking-stand  nearer,  fussed  with 
its  silver  appointments. 

"  Lemme,  ma'am,"  said  Fibsy,  eagerly,  and, 
though  it  was  his  first  attempt,  he  held  a  lighted 
match  to  her  cigarette  with  real  grace. 

Then,  drawing  a  long  breath  of  relief  at  his  suc- 
cess, he  took  a  cigarette  himself,  and  sat  near  her. 

"  Well,"  she  began,  "  what's  it  all  about?  And, 
do  tell  me  how  you  got  in !  I'm  glad  you  did,  though 
it  was  against  orders.  I've  not  seen  anything  so 
amusing  as  you  for  a  long  time !  " 

"  This  is  my  amusin'  day,"  returned  the  boy, 
imperturbably.  "  I  came  to  talk  over  things  in 


general " 

"  And  what  in  particular?  " 

Fifi  was  enjoying  herself.  She  felt  almost  sure 
the  boy  was  a  reporter  of  a  new  sort,  but  she  was 
frankly  curious. 

"  Well,  ma'am,"  and  here  Fibsy  changed  his  de- 
meanor to  a  stern,  scowling  fierceness,  "  I'm  a  spe- 
cial investigator."  He  rose  now,  and  strode  about 
the  room.  "  I'm  engaged  on  the  Embury  murder 
case,  and  I'm  here  to  ask  you  a  few  pointed  questions 
about  it." 

"  My  heavens !  "  cried  Fifi,  "  what  are  you  talk- 
ing about  ? " 

"Don't  scoff  at  me,  ma'am;  I'm  in  authority." 


FIBSY'S  BUSY  DAY  277 

"  Oh,  well,  go  ahead.  Why  are  you  question- 
ing me?  " 

"  It's  this  way,  ma'am."  Fibsy  sat  down  astride 
a  chair,  looking  over  the  back  of  it  at  his  hostess. 
"  You  and  Mrs.  Embury  are  bosom  friends, 
I  understand." 

"  From  whom  do  you  understand  it  ?  "  was  the 
tart  response;  "  from  Mrs.  Embury?  " 

"  In  a  manner  o'  speakin',  yes;  and  then  again, 
no.  But  aren't  you  ?  " 

"  We  were.  We  were  school  friends,  and  have 
been  intimates  for  years.  But  since  her — trouble, 
Mrs.  Embury  has  thrown  me  over — has  discarded 
me  utterly — I'm  so  sorry!  " 

Fifi  daintily  touched  her  eyes  with  a  tiny  square 
of  monogrammed  linen,  and  Fibsy  said,  gravely, 

"  Careful,  there;  don't  dab  your  eyelashes 
too  hard !  " 

"  What !  "  Mrs.  Desternay  could  scarcely  believe 
her  ears. 

"  Honest,  you'd  better  look  out.  It's  coming 
off  now." 

"  Nothing  of  the  sort,"  and  Fifi  whipped  out  a 
vanity  case,  and  readjusted  her  cosmetic  adornment. 

'  Then  I  take  it  you  two  are  not  friends?  " 

"  We  most  certainly  are  not.  I  wouldn't  do  any- 
thing in  the  world  to  injure  Eunice  Embury — in  fact, 


278  RASPBERRY  JAM 

I'd  help  her,  even  now — though  she  scorned  my 
assistance — but  we're  not  friends — no !  " 

"  All  right,  I  just  wanted  to  know.  Ask  right 
out — that's  my  motto." 

"  It  seems  to  be !  Anything  else  you  are  thirsting 
to  learn?" 

"  Yes'm.  You  know  that  '  Hamlet '  perform- 
ance— you  and  Mis'  Embury  went  to  ?  n 

"  Yes,"  said  Fifi,  cautiously. 

"  You  know  you  accused  her  of  talkin'  it  over 
with  you " 

"She  did!" 

"  Yes'm — I  know  you  say  she  did — I  got  that 
from  Mr.  Shane — but,  lemme  tell  you,  ma'am, 
friendly  like,  you  want  to  be  careful  how  you  tell 
that  yarn — 'cause  they's  chance  fer  a  perfectly  good 
slander  case  against  you !  " 

"  What  nonsense!  "  but  Fifi  paled  a  little  under 
her  delicate  rouge. 

"  No  nonsense  whatsomever.  But  here's  the 
point.  Was  there  a  witness  to  that  conversation?  " 

"  Why,  let  me  see.  We  talked  it  over  at  the 
matinee — we  were  alone  then — but,  yes,  of  course — 
I  recollect  now — that  same  evening  Eunice  was  here 
and  Mr.  Hendricks  was,  too,  and  Mr.  Patterson — 
he  lives  in  their  apartment  house — the  Embury's, 


FIBSY'S  BUSY  DAY  279 

I  mean — and  we  all  talked  about  it!  There!  I 
guess  that's  witnesses  enough !  " 

"  I  guess  it  is.  But  take  it  from  me,  lady,  you're 
too  pretty  to  get  into  a  bothersome  lawsuit — and  I 
advise  you  to  keep  on  the  sunny  side  of  the  street, 
and  let  these  shady  matters  alone." 

"  I'll  gladly  do  so — honest,  I  don't  want  to  get 
Eunice  in  bad " 

"  Oh,  no !  we  all  know  you  don't  want  to  get  her 
in  bad — unless  it  can  be  done  with  abserlute  safety 
to  your  own  precious  self.  Well — it  can't,  ma'am. 
You  keep  on  like  you've  begun — and  your  middle 
name'll  soon  be  trouble!  Good  morning,  ma'am." 

Fibsy  rose,  bowed  and  left  the  room  so  suddenly 
that  Fifi  hadn't  time  to  stop  him  if  she  had  wanted 
to.  And  he  left  behind  him  a  decidedly  scared 
little  woman. 

Fibsy  then  went  straight  to  the  offices  of  Ma- 
son Elliott. 

He  was  admitted  and  given  an  audience  at  once. 

"  What  is  it,  McGuire?  "  asked  the  broker. 

"  A  lot  of  things,  Mr.  Elliott.  First  of  all — I 
suppose  the  police  are  quite  satisfied  with  the  alibis 
of  you  and  Mr.  Hendricks?  " 

"  Yes,"  and  Elliott  looked  curiously  into  the 
grave,  earnest  little  face.  He  had  resented,  at  first, 
the  work  of  this  boy,  but  after  Fleming  Stone  had 


280  RASPBERRY  JAM 

explained  his  worth,  Elliott  soon  began  to  see  it 
for  himself. 

"  They  are  unimpeachable,"  he  went  on;  "  I  was 
at  home,  and  Mr.  Hendricks  was  in  Boston.  This 
has  been  proved  over  and  over  by  many  witnesses, 
both  authentic  and  credible." 

"Yes,"  Fibsy  nodded.  "I'm  sure  of  it,  too. 
And,  of  course,  that  lets  you  two  out.  Now,  Mr. 
Elliott,  the  butler  didn't  do  it — F.  Stone  says  that's 
a  self-evident  fact.  Bringin'  us  back — as  per  usual 
— to  the  two  ladies.  But,  Mr.  Elliott,  neither  of 
those  ladies  did  it." 

"  Bless  you,  my  boy,  that's  my  own  opinion,  of 
course,  but  how  can  we  prove  it?  " 

Fibsy  deeply  appreciated  the  "  we  "  and  gave  the 
speaker  a  grateful  smile. 

"  There  you  are,  Mr.  Elliott,  how  can  we?  Mr. 
Stone,  as  you  know,  is  the  cleverest  detective  in  the 
world,  but  he's  no  magician.  He  can't  find  the  truth, 
if  the  truth  is  hidden  in  a  place  he  can't  get  at." 

"  Have  you  any  idea,  McGuire,  who  the  mur- 
derer was  ?  " 

"  No,  sir,  I  haven't.  But  I've  an  idea  where  to 
get  an  idea.  And  I  want  you  to  help  me." 

"  Surely — that  goes  without  saying." 

"You'd  do  anything  for  Mrs.  Embury, 
wouldn't  you?" 


FIBSY'S  BUSY  DAY  281 

"Anything."  The  simple  assertion  told  the 
whole  story,  and  Fibsy  nodded  with  satisfaction. 

"  Then  tell  me  truly,  sir,  please,  wasn't  Mr. 
Embury  a — a — a " 

"  Careful  there — he's  dead,  you  know." 

"  Yes,  I  know — but  it's  necessary,  sir.  Wasn't 
he  a — I  don't  know  the  right  term,  but  wasn't  he 
a  money-grabber  ?  " 

"  In  what  way?  "  Elliott  spoke  very  gravely. 

"  You  know  best,  sir.  He  was  your  partner — 
had  been  for  some  years.  But — on  the  side,  now — 
didn't  he  do  this?  Lend  money — sorta  personally, 
you  know — on  security." 

"And  if  he  did?" 

"  Didn't  he  demand  big  security — didn't  he  get 
men — his  friends  even — in  his  power — and  then 
come  down  on  'em— oh,  wasn't  he  a  sort  of  a 
loan  shark  ?  " 

"  Where  did  you  get  all  this  ?  " 

"  I  put  together  odds  and  ends  of  talk  I've 
heard — and  it  must  be  so.  That  Mr.  Patterson, 
now " 

"  Patterson!    What  do  you  know  of  him?  " 

"  Nothing,  but  that  he  owed  Mr.  Embury  a  lot, 
and  his  household  stuff  was  the  collateral — and " 

"Where  did  you  learn  that  ?  I  insist  on  knowing !" 

"  Servants'  gossip,  sir.     I  picked  it  up  in  the 


282  RASPBERRY  JAM 

apartment  house.  He  and  the  Emburys  live  in  the 
same  one,  you  know." 

"  McGuire,  you  are  on  a  wrong  trail.  Mr.  Em- 
bury may  have  lent  money  to  his  friends — may  have 
had  collateral  security  from  them — probably  did — 
but  that's  nothing  to  do  with  his  being  killed.  And 
as  it  is  a  blot  on  his  memory,  I  do  not  want  the 
matter  made  public." 

"  I  understand  that,  Mr.  Elliott — neither  do  I. 
But  s'posin'  the  discovery  of  the  murderer  hinges 
on  that  very  thing — that  very  branch  of  Mr.  Em- 
bury's business — then  mustn't  it  be  looked  into  ?  " 

"  Perhaps  it  must — but  not  by  you." 

"No,  sir,    By  F.  Stone." 


CHAPTER  XVII 

HANLON'S  AMBITION 

AN  important  feature  of  Fleming  Stone's  effi- 
ciency was  his  ability  to  make  use  of  the  services 
of  others.  In  the  present  case,  he  skilfully  utilized 
both  Shane  and  Driscoll's  energies,  and  received 
their  reports — diplomatically  concealing  the  fact  that 
he  was  making  tools  of  them,  and  letting  them  infer 
that  he  was  merely  their  co-worker. 

Also,  he  depended  greatly  on  Fibsy's  assistance. 
The  boy  was  indefatigable,  and  he  did  errands  intel- 
ligently, and  made  investigations  with  a  minute 
attention  to  details,  that  delighted  the  heart  of 
his  master. 

Young  McGuire  had  all  the  natural  attributes 
of  a  detective,  and  under  the  tuition  of  Fleming 
Stone  was  advancing  rapidly. 

When  assisting  Stone  on  a  case,  the  two  usually 
lived  together  at  some  hotel,  Stone  going  back  and 
forth  between  there  and  his  own  home,  which  was 
now  in  a  Westchester  suburb. 

It  was  part  of  the  routine  that  the  two  should 
breakfast  together  and  plan  the  day's  work.  These 
breakfasts  were  carefully  arranged  meals,  with  cor- 

283 


284  RASPBERRY  JAM 

rect  appointments,  for  Stone  had  the  boy's  good  at 
heart,  and  was  glad  to  train  him  in  deportment  for 
his  own  sake ;  but  also,  he  desired  that  Fibsy  should 
be  presentable  in  any  society,  as  the  pursuit  of  the 
detective  calling  made  it  often  necessary  that  the 
boy  should  visit  in  well-conducted  homes. 

Fibsy  was,  therefore,  eating  his  breakfast  after 
the  most  approved  formula,  when  Stone  said,  "  Well, 
Fibs,  how  about  Sykes  and  Barton?  Now  for  the 
tale  of  your  call  on  Willy  Hanlon  yesterday." 

"  I  went  down  there,  Mr.  Stone,  but  I  didn't  see 
Hanlon.  He  was  out.  But  I  did  a  lot  better.  I 
saw  Mr.  Barton,  of  Sykes  and  Barton,  and  I  got  an 
earful!  It  seems  friend  Willy  has  ambitions." 

"In  what  line?" 

"  Upward !  Like  the  gentleman  in  the  poetry- 
book,  he  wants  to  go  higher,  higher,  ever  higher — " 

"  Aeroplane?  " 

"  No,  not  that  way — steeplejack." 

"  Painting  spires?  " 

"  Not  only  spires,  but  signs  in  high  places — dan- 
gerous places — and,  you  know,  Mr.  Stone,  he  told 
us — that  day  at  the  Embury  house — that  he  didn't 
climb — that  he  painted  signs,  and  let  other  people 
put  them  up." 

"Yes;  well?    What  of  it?" 

"  Only  this :  why  did  he  try  to  deceive  us  ?    Why, 


HANLON'S  AMBITION  285 

Mr.  Barton  says  he's  a  most  daring  climber — he's 
practicing  to  be  a  human  fly." 

"  A  human  fly  ?    Is  that  a  new  circus  stunt  ?  " 

"  You  know  what  I  mean.  You've  seen  a  human 
fly  perform,  haven't  you?" 

"  Oh,  that  chap  who  stood  on  his  head  on  the 
coping  of  the  Woolworth  Building  to  get  contri- 
butions for  the  Red  Cross  work?  Yes,  I  remember. 
He  wasn't  Hanlon,  was  he?  " 

"No,  sir;  he  was  the  original — or  one  of  the 
first  ones.  There  are  lots  of  human  flies,  now.  They 
cut  up  tricks  all  over  the  country.  And  Willy  Han- 
lon is  practicing  for  that — but  he  doesn't  want 
it  known." 

"  All  right,  I  won't  tell.  His  guilty  secret  is 
safe  with  me ! " 

"  Now,  you're  laughing1  at  me,  Mr.  Stone !  All 
right — just  you  wait — and  Hanlon  goes  around  on  a 
motor-cycle,  too ! " 

"  He  does !  Then  we  are  undone !  What  a 
revelation !  And,  now,  Fibs,  if  you'll  explain  to  me 
the  significance  of  Hanlon's  aspiring  ambitions  and 
his  weird  taste  for  motor-cycles,  I'll  be  obliged." 

Fibsy  was  extremely,  even  absurdly,  sensitive  to 
irony.  Sometimes  it  didn't  affect  him  seriously,  and 
then,  again,  he  would  be  so  hurt  and  embarrassed 
by  it,  that  it  fairly  made  him  unable  to  talk. 


286  RASPBERRY  JAM 

In  this  instance,  it  overcame  him  utterly,  and 
his  funny  little  freckled  face  turned  red,  and  his 
eyes  lost  their  eagerness  and  showed  only  chagrin. 

"  Come,  come,"  said  Stone,  regretting  his  teas- 
ing, but  determined  to  help  the  boy  overcome  his 
sensitiveness  to  it,  "  brace  up,  Fibs ;  you  know  I 
meant  no  harm.  Forgive  a  chap,  can't  you — and 
begin  all  over  again.  I  know  you  have  something 
in  your  noddle — and  doubtless,  something  jolly  well 
worth  while." 

"  Well — I — oh,  wait  a  minute,  Mr.  Stone — I'm 
a  fool,  but  I  can't  help  it.  When  you  come  at  me 
like  that,  I  lose  all  faith  in  my  notions.  For  it's 
only  a  notion — and  a  crazy  one  at  that,  and — well, 
sir,  you  wait  till  I've  worked  it  up  a  little  further — 
and  if  there's  anything  to  it — I'll  expound.  Now, 
what's  my  orders  for  to-day  ?  " 

Fibsy  had  an  obstinate  streak  in  his  make-up,  and 
Fleming  Stone  was  too  wise  to  insist  on  the  boy's 
"  expounding  "  just  then. 

Instead,  he  said,  pleasantly:  "To-day,  Fibs,  I 
want  you  to  make  a  round  of  the  drug  stores.  It's 
not  a  hopeful  job — indeed,  I  can't  think  it  can 
amount  to  anything — but  have  a  try  at  it.  You  re- 
member, Mr.  Hendricks  had  the  earache " 

"I  do,  indeed !  He  had  it  a  month  ago — and 
what's  more,  he  denied  it — at  first." 


HANLON'S  AMBITION  287 

"  Yes ;  well,  use  your  discretion  for  all  it's  worth 
— but  get  a  line  on  the  doctor  that  prescribed  for 
him — it  was  a  bad  case,  you  know — and  find  out 
what  he  got  to  relieve  him  and  where  he  got  it." 

"  Yessir.  Say,  Mr.  Stone,  is  Mr.  Hendricks  im- 
plicated, do  you  think  ?  " 

"In  the  murder?  Why,  he  was  in  Boston  at 
the  time — a  man  can't  be  in  two  places  at  once, 
can  he  ?  " 

"  He  cannot !  He  has  a  perfect  alibi — hasn't  he, 
Mr.  Stone?" 

"  He  sure  has,  Fibsy.  And  yet — he  was  in  the 
party  that  discussed  the  possibilities  of  killing  people 
by  the  henbane  route." 

"  Yessir — but  so  was  Mr.  Patterson — Mis'  Des- 
ternay  said  so." 

"  The  Patterson  business  must  be  looked  into. 
I'll  attend  to  that  to-day— I'll  also  see  Mr.  Elliott 
about  that  matter  of  personal  loans  that  Mr.  Em- 
bury seemed  to  be  conducting  as  a  side  business." 

"  Yes,  do,  please.  Mr.  Stone,  it  would  be  a  first- 
class  motive,  if  Mr.  Embury  had  a  strangle-hold 
on  somebody  who  owed  him  a  whole  lot  and  couldn't 
pay,  and " 

"  Fine  motive,  my  boy — but  how  about  oppor- 
tunity ?  You  forget  those  bolted  doors." 


288  RASPBERRY  JAM 

"  And  Mr.  Patterson  had  borrowed  money  of 
Mr.  Embury " 

"  How  do  you  know  that?  " 

"  I  heard  it — oh,  well,  I  got  it  from  one  of  the 
footmen  of  the  apartment  house " 

"  Footmen!    What  do  you  mean?  " 

"  You  know  there's  a  lot  of  employees — porters, 
rubbish  men,  doormen,  hallmen,  pages  and  Lord 
knows  what !  I  lump  'em  all  under  the  title  of  foot- 
men. Anyway,  one  of  those  persons  told  me — for 
a  consideration — a  lot  about  the  private  affairs  of 
the  tenants.  You  know,  Mr.  Stone,  those  footmen 
pick  up  a  lot  of  information — overhearing  here  and 
there — and  from  the  private  servants  kept  by 
the  tenants." 

"That's  true,  Fibs;  there  must  be  a  mine  of 
information  available  in  that  way." 

"  There  is,  sir.  And  I  caught  onto  a  good  deal 
— and  specially,  I  learned  that  Mr.  Patterson  is  in  the 
faction — or  whatever  you  call  it — that  didn't  want 
Mr.  Embury  to  be  president  of  that  club." 

"  And  so  you  think  Mr.  Patterson  had  a  hand 
in  the  murder  ?  " 

Stone's  face  was  grave,  and  there  was  no  hint 
of  banter  in  his  tone,  so  Fibsy  replied,  earnestly, 
"  Well,  he  is  the  man  who  has  lots  of  empty  jam 
jars  go  down  in  the  garbage  pails." 


HANLON'S  AMBITION  289 

"  But  he  has  lots  of  children." 

"  Yes,  sir — four.  Oh,  well,  I  suppose  a  good 
many  people  like  raspberry  jam." 

"  Go  on,  Fibsy ;  don't  be  discouraged.  As  I've 
often  told  you,  one  scrap  of  evidence  is  worth  con- 
sidering. A  second,  against  the  same  man — is  im- 
portant— and  a  third,  is  decidedly  valuable." 

"  Yessir,  that's  what  I'm  bankin'  on.  You  see, 
Mr.  Patterson,  now — he's  over  head  and  ears  in 
debt  to  Embury.  He  was  against  Embury  for  club 
president.  He  was  present  at  the  henbane  discus- 
sion. And — he's  an  habitual  buyer  of  rasp- 
berry jam." 

"  Some  counts,"  and  Fleming  Stone  looked 
thoughtful.  "  But  not  entirely  convincing.  How'd 
he  get  in?  '* 

"You  know  his  apartment  is  directly  beneath 
the  Embury  apartment — but  two  floors  below." 

"  Might  as  well  be  ten  floors  below.  How  could 
he  get  in  ?  " 

"  Somebody  got  in,  Mr.  Stone.  You  know  as 
well  as  I  do,  that  neither  Mrs.  Embury  nor  Miss 
Ames  committed  that  murder.  We  must  face  that." 

"  Nor  did  Ferdinand  do  it.  I'll  go  you  all 
those  assumptions." 

"  All  right,  sir ;  then  somebody  got  in   from 
the  outside." 
19 


290  RASPBERRY  JAM 

"How?" 

"  Mr.  Stone,  haven't  you  ever  read  detective 
stories  where  a  murder  was  committed  in  a  room 
that  was  locked  and  double-locked  and  yet  some- 
body did  get  in — and  the  fun  of  the  story  is  guessing 
how  he  got  in." 

"  Fiction,  my  boy,  is  one  thing — fact  is  another." 

"  No,  sir;  they're  one  and  the  same  thing!  " 

"All  right,  son;  have  it  your  own  way.  Now, 
if  you're  ready  to  get  ready,  skittle  off  to  your  chain 
of  drug  stores,  and  run  down  a  henbane  purchase 
by  any  citizen  of  this  little  old  town,  or  adja- 
cent boroughs." 

Fibsy  went  off.  He  had  recovered  from  the 
sense  of  annoyance  at  being  chaffed  by  Stone,  but 
it  made  him  more  resolved  than  ever  to  prove  the 
strange  theory  he  had  formed.  He  didn't  dignify 
his  idea  by  the  name  of  theory,  but  he  was  doggedly 
sticking  to  a  notion  which,  he  hoped,  would  bring 
forth  some  strange  developments  and  speedily. 

Laying  aside  his  own  plans  for  the  moment,  he 
went  about  Stone's  business,  and  had  little  difficulty 
in  finding  the  nearby  druggist  whom  Hendricks 
frequently  patronized. 

"  Alvord  Hendricks?  Sure  he  trades  here,"  said 
the  dapper  young  clerk.  "  He  buys  mostly  shaving- 
cream  and  tooth-paste,  but  here's  where  he  buys  it." 


HANLON'S  AMBITION  291 

"  Righto !  And,  say,  a  month  or  so  ago,  he 
bought  some  hyoscine " 

"Oh,  no,  excuse  me,  he  did  not!  That's  not 
sold  hit  or  miss.  But  maybe  you  mean  hyoscya- 
mine.  That's  another  thing." 

"  Why,  maybe  I  do.  Look  up  the  sale,  can't 
you,  and  make  sure." 

"Why  should  I?" 

Fibsy  explained  that  in  the  interests  of  a  police 
investigation  it  might  be  better  to  acquiesce  than  to 
question  why,  and  the  young  man  proved  obliging. 

So  Terence  McGuire  learned  that  Alvord  Hen- 
dricks  bought  some  hyoscyamine,  on  a  doctor's  pre- 
scription, about  a  month  ago — the  same  to  be  used 
to  relieve  a  serious  case  of  earache. 

But  there  was  no  record  of  his  having  bought 
hyoscyamus,  which  was  the  deadly  henbane  used  inl 
the  medicine  dropper — nor  was  there  any  other  rec- 
ord of  hyoscyamine  against  him. 

Satisfied  that  he  had  learned  all  he  could,  Fibsy 
continued  his  round  of  drug-store  visits,  in  an  ever- 
widening  circle,  but  got  no  information  on  any  hen- 
bane sales  whatever. 

"Nothin'  doin',"  he  told  himself.  "Whoever 
squirted  that  henbane  from  that  squirter  into  that 
ear — brought  said  henbane  from  a  distance,  which, 
to  my  mind,  indicates  a  far-seeing  and  intelligent 
reasoning  power." 


292  RASPBERRY  JAM 

His  present  duty  done,  he  started  forth  on  his 
own  tour  of  investigation.  He  went  to  a  small 
boarding  house,  in  an  inconspicuous  street,  the  ad- 
dress of  which  had  been  given  him  by  Mr.  Barton, 
and  asked  for  Mr.  Hanlon. 

"  He  ain't  home,"  declared  the  frowning  land- 
lady who  opened  the  door. 

"  I  know  it,"  returned  Fibsy,  nonchalantly,  "  but 
I  gotta  go  up  to  his  room  a  minute.  He  sent  me." 

"How  do  I  know  that?" 

"  That's  so,  how  do  you?  "  Fibsy's  grin  was  so- 
ciable. "  Well,  look  here,  I  guess  this'll  fix  it.  I'm 
errand  boy  to — you  know  who — "  he  winked  mys- 
teriously, "to  the  man  he  takes  his  acrobat  les- 
sons off  of." 

"  Oh,"  the  woman  looked  frightened.  "  Hush 
up — it's  all  right.  Only  don't  mention  no  names. 
Go  on  upstairs — third  floor  front." 

"  Yep,"  and  Fibsy  went  quietly  up  the  stairs. 

Hanlon's  room  was  not  locked,  but  a  big  ward- 
robe inside  was — and  nothing  else  was  of  interest 
to  the  visitor.  He  picked  at  the  lock  with  his  knife, 
but  to  no  avail. 

As  he  stood  looking  wistfully  at  the  wardrobe 
door,  a  cheerful  voice  sounded  behind  him : 

"  I'll  open  it  for  you — what  do  you  want  out 
of  it?" 


HANLON'S  AMBITION  293 

Fibsy  looked  up  quickly,  to  see  Hanlon  himself, 
smiling  at  him. 

Quick  to  take  a  cue,  the  boy  didn't  show  any 
embarrassment,  but  putting  out  his  hand  said,  "How 
do  you  do,  Mr.  Hanlon  ?  " 

"Fine.  How's  yourself ?  And  why  the  sneak 
visit,  my  boy  ?  " 

Fibsy  looked  his  questioner  square  in  the  eye, 
and  then  said,  "  Oh,  well,  I  s'pose  I  may  as  well 
speak  right  out." 

"  You  sure  may.  Either  tell  the  truth,  or  put 
up  such  a  convincing  lie  that  I'll  think  it's  the  truth. 
Go  ahead." 

"  Here  goes,  then,"  Fibsy  made  a  quick  decision, 
that  Hanlon  was  too  keen  to  stand  for  any  lie.  "  I'm 
engaged  on  the  Embury  murder  case." 

"I  know  that's  true — though  it's  hard  to  believe." 

Fibsy  chose  to  ignore  this  dig,  and  went  on. 
"  I'm  here  because  I  want  to  see  how  you're  mixed 
up  in  it." 

"  Oh,  you  do!    Why  not  ask  me?  " 

"  All  right,  I  ask  you.  How  are  you  connected 
with  the  murder  of  Sanford  Embury?  " 

"Will  anything  I  say  be  used  against  me?" 
Hanlon's  tone  was  jocular,  but  he  was  staring  hard 
at  Fibsy's  face. 

"If  it's  usable,"  was  the  nonchalant  reply. 


294  RASPBERRY  JAM 

"  Well,  use  it  if  you  can.  I'm  mixed  up  in  the 
matter,  as  you  put  it,  because  I'm  trying  to  find  the 
murderer  on  my  own  account." 

"Why  do  you  want  the  murderer  on  your 
own  account?  " 

"  I  didn't  agree  to  answer  more  than  one  ques- 
tion. But  I  will.  I  don't  want  the  murderer  par- 
ticularly— but  I'm  interested  in  the  case.  I've  the 
detective  instinct  myself — and  I  thought  if  I  could 
track  down  the  villain — I  might  get  a  reward " 

"  Is  there  one  offered  ?  " 

"  Not  that  I  know  of — but  I  daresay  either  Mr. 
Elliott  or  Mr.  Hendricks  would  willingly  pay  to  have 
the  murderer  found." 

"Why  those  two?    Why  not  Mrs.  Embury?" 

"  Innocent  child !  Those  two  are  deeply,  des- 
perately, darkly  in  love  with  the — the  widow." 

"  Let's  leave  her  out  of  this!  " 

"  Ha,  ha !  a  squire  of  dames,  eh  ?  and  at  your 
age !  All  right — leave  the  lady's  name  out.  But  I've 
confessed  my  hidden  purpose.  Now  tell  me  what 
brings  you  to  my  domicile,  on  false  pretenses,  and 
why  do  I  find  you  on  the  point  of  breaking  into 
my  wardrobe?  " 

"  Truth  does  it !  I  wanted  to  see  if  I  could  find 
a  false  beard  and  a  white  turban." 

"  Oh,  you  did !    And  what  good  would  that  do 


HANLON'S  AMBITION  295 

you?  You  have  cleverly  discerned  that  I  assumed 
an  innocent  disguise,  in  order  to  give  aid  and  com- 
fort to  a  most  worthy  dame  of  advanced  years." 

"You  did— but  why?" 

"  Are  you  Paul  Pry  ?  You'll  drive  me  crazy  with 
your  eternal  '  why?  ' 

"  All  right,  go  crazy,  then — but,  why  ?  " 

"  The  same  old  reason,"  and  Hanlon  spoke  seri- 
ously. "  I'm  trying,  as  I  said,  to  find  the  Embury 
murderer,  and  I  contrived  that  session  with  the  old 
lady  in  hopes  of  learning  something  to  help  me 
in  finding  him." 

"And  did  you?" 

"  I  learned  that  she  is  a  harmless,  but  none  the 
less,  positively  demented  woman.  I  learned  that  she 
deceives  herself — in  a  way,  hypnotizes  herself,  and 
she  believes  she  sees  and  hears  things  that  she  does 
not  see  and  hear." 

"  And  tastes  them?  and  smells  them?  " 

"  There,  too,  she  deceives  herself.  Surely,  you 
don't  take  in  that  story  of  her  '  vision '  ?  " 

"  I  believe  she  believes  it." 

"Yes,  so  do  I.  Now,  look  here,  McGuire;  I'm 
a  good-natured  sort,  and  I'm  willing  to  overlook 
this  raid  of  yours,  if  you'll  join  forces.  I  can  help 
you,  but  only  if  you're  frank  and  honest  in  whacking 
up  with  whatever  info  you  have.  I  know  something 
— you  know  something — will  you  go  in  cahoots?  " 


£96  RASPBERRY  JAM 

"  I  would,  Mr.  Hanlon,"  and  Fibsy  looked  re- 
gretful, "  if  I  was  my  own  boss.  But,  you  see,  I'm 
under  orders.  I'm  F.  Stone's  helper — and  I'll  tell 
you  what  he  says  I  may — and  that's  all." 

"  That  goes.  I  don't  want  any  more  than  your 
boss  lets  you  spill.  And  now,  honest,  what  did  you 
come  here  for  ?  " 

"  To  look  in  that  wardrobe,  as  I  said." 

"  Why,  bless  your  heart,  child,  you're  welcome 
to  do  that." 

Hanlon  drew  a  key  from  his  pocket,  and  flung 
the  wardrobe  door  wide. 

"  There  you  are — go  to  it !  " 

Swiftly,  but  methodically,  Fibsy  took  down  every 
article  of  wearing  apparel  the  wardrobe  contained, 
glanced  at  it  and  returned  it,  Hanlon  looking  on  with 
an  amused  expression  on  his  face. 

"Any  incriminating  evidence?  "  he  said  at  last, 
as  Fibsy  hung  up  the  final  piece  of  clothing. 

"  Not  a  scrap,"  was  the  hearty  reply.  "  If  I 
don't  get  more  evidence  offen  somebody  else  than  I 
do  from  you,  I'll  go  home  empty-handed !  " 

"Let  me  help  you,"  and  Hanlon  spoke  kindly; 
"  I'll  hunt  evidence  with  you." 

"  Some  day,  maybe.  I've  got  to-day  all  dated 
up.  And,  say,  why  did  you  tell  me  you  wasn't  a 
steeplejack  painter,  when  you  are?  " 


HANLON'S  AMBITION  297 

"  You're  right,  I  am.  But  I  don't  want  it  known, 
because  I'm  going  to  branch  out  in  a  new  field  soon, 
and  I  don't  want  that  advertised  at  present." 

"  I  know,  Mr.  Barton  told  me.  You're  going  to 
be  a  human  fly,  and  cut  up  pranks  on  the  edges  of 
roofs  of  skyscrapers " 

"  Hush,  not  so  loud.  Yes,  I  am,  but  the  goal  is 
far  distant.  But  I'm  going  to  have  a  whack  at  it — 
and  I  know  I  can  succeed,  in  time." 

Hanlon's  eyes  had  a  faraway,  hopeful  look,  as  if 
gazing  into  a  future  of  marvelous  achievement  in 
his  chosen  field.  "  Oh,  I  say,  boy,  it's  glorious,  this 
becoming  expert  in  something  difficult.  It  pays  for 
all  the  work  and  training  and  practice !  " 

The  true  artist  ambition  rang  in  his  voice,  and 
Fibsy  gazed  at  him  fascinated,  for  the  boy  was  a 
hero-worshipper,  and  adored  proficiency  in  any  art. 

"  When  you  going  to  exhibit  ?  "  he  asked  eagerly. 

"  A  little  try  at  it  next  week.    Want'a  come  ?  " 

"Don't  I.    Where?" 

"Hush!    I'll  whisper.     Philadelphia." 

"  I'll  be  there!    Lemme  'no  the  date  and  all." 

"  Yes,  I  will.    Must  you  go?    Here's  your  hat." 

Fibsy  laughed,  took  the  hint  and  departed. 

"  What  a  feller !  "  he  marveled  to  himself,  as  he 
went  on  his  way.  "  Oh,  gee!  what  a  feller! " 


CHAPTER  XVIII 

THE  GUILTY  ONE 

"  ALVORD,  you  shock  me — you  amaze  me !  How 
dare  you  talk  to  me  of  love,  when  my  husband 
hasn't  been  dead  a  fortnight?  " 

"What  matter,  Eunice?  You  never  really 
loved  Sanford " 

"I  did— I  did!" 

"  Not  lately,  anyhow.  Perhaps  just  at  first — 
and  then,  not  deeply.  He  carried  you  originally  by 
storm — it  was  an  even  toss-up  whether  he  or  Elliott 
or  I  won  out.  He  was  the  most  forceful  of  the 
three,  and  he  made  you  marry  him — didn't  he  now  ?" 

"  Don't  talk  nonsense.  I  married  Sanford  of 
my  own  free  will " 

"Yes,  and  in  haste,  and  repented  at  leisure. 
Now,  don't  be  hypocritical,  and  pretend  to  grieve  for 
him.  His  death  was  shocking — fearful — but  you're 
really  relieved  that  he  is  gone.  Why  not  admit  it?  " 

"Alvord,  stop  such  talk!  I  command  you!  I 
won't  listen ! " 

"Very  well,  dearest,  I'll  stop  it.  I  beg  your 
pardon — I  forgot  myself,  I  confess.  Now,  let  me 
298 


THE  GUILTY  ONE  299 

atone.  I  love  you,  Eunice,  and  I'll  promise  not  to 
tell  you  so,  or  to  talk  about  it  now,  if  you'll  just 
give  me  a  ray  of  hope — a  glimmer  of  anticipation. 
Will  you — sometime — darling,  let  me  tell  you  of  my 
love?  After  such  an  interval  as  you  judge  proper? 
Will  you,  Eunice?  " 

"  No,  I  will  not !  I  don't  love  you — I  never  did 
and  never  can  love  you !  How  did  you  ever  get  such 
an  idea  into  your  head  ?  " 

The  beautiful  face  expressed  surprise  and  in- 
credulity, rather  than  anger,  and  Eunice's  voice  was 
gentle.  In  such  a  mood,  she  was  even  more  attractive 
than  in  her  more  vivacious  moments. 

Unable  to  control  himself,  Hendricks  took  a  step 
toward  her,  and  folded  her  in  his  arms. 

She  made  no  effort  to  disengage  herself,  but  said, 
in  a  tone  of  utter  disdain,  "  Let  me  go,  Alvord ; 
you  bore  me." 

As  she  had  well  known,  this  angered  him  far 
more  than  angry  words  would  have  done. 

He  released  her  instantly,  but  his  face  was  blaz- 
ing with  indignation. 

"  Oh,  I  do — do  I  ?  And  who  can  make  love  to 
you,  and  not  bore  you  ?  Elliott  ?  " 

"  You  are  still  forgetting  yourself." 

"  I  am  not !  I  am  thinking  of  myself  only.  Oh, 
Eunice — dear  Eunice,  I  have  loved  you  so  long — 


300  RASPBERRY  JAM 

and  I  have  been  good.  All  the  time  you  were  San- 
ford's  wife,  I  never  so  much  as  called  you  '  dear ' — 
never  gave  you  even  a  look  that  wasn't  one  of  re- 
spect for  my  friend's  wife.  But  now — now,  that 
you  are  free — I  have  a  right  to  woo  you.  It  is  too 
soon — yes,  I  know  that — but  I  will  wait — wait  as 
long  as  you  command,  if  you'll  only  promise  me 
that  I  may — sometime " 

"  Never!  I  told  you  that  before — I  do  not  want 
to  be  obliged  to  repeat  it !  Please  understand,  once 
for  all,  I  have  no  love  to  give  you " 

"  Because  it  is  another's !  Eunice — tell  me  you 
do  not  care  for  Elliott — and  I  won't  say  another 
word — now.  I'll  wait  patiently — for  a  year — two 
years — as  long  as  you  wish — only  give  me  the  assur- 
ance that  you  will  not  marry  Mason  Elliott." 

"  You  are  impossible !  How  dare  you  speak  to 
me  of  my  marriage  with  anybody,  when  my  husband 
is  only  just  dead  ?  One  word  more,  Alvord,  on  the 
subject,  and  I  shall  forbid  you  my  house !  " 

"  All  right,  my  lady !  Put  on  your  high  and 
mighty  air,  if  you  choose — but  before  you  marry 
that  man — make  sure  that  he  did  not  himself  pre- 
pare the  way  for  the  wedding!  " 

"  What  do  you  mean  ?  Are  you  accusing  Ma- 
son of " 

"  I  make  no  accusations.    But — who  did  kill  San- 


THE  GUILTY  ONE  301 

ford?  I  know  you  didn't  do  it — and  Elliott  has 
engaged  Stone  to  prove  that  you  didn't.  It  is  absurd, 
we  all  know,  to  suspect  Aunt  Abby — I  was  out  of 
town — who  is  left  but  Mason?  " 

"  Hush !  I  won't  listen  to  such  a  suggestion ! 
Mason  was  at  his  home  that  night." 

"  Are  you  sure  ?  " 

"Of  course,  I'm  sure !  And  I  don't  have  to  have 
it  proved  by  a  detective  either!  And  now,  Alvord 
Hendricks,  you  may  go!  I  don't  care  to  talk  to 
anyone  who  can  make  such  a  contemptible  accusa- 
tion against  a  lifelong  friend!  " 

But  before  Hendricks  left,  Elliott  himself 
came  in. 

He  was  grave  and  preoccupied.  He  bowed  a  lit- 
tle curtly  to  Hendricks,  and,  as  he  took  Eunice's 
hand,  he  said,  "  May  I  see  you  alone?  I  want  to 
talk  over  some  business  matters — and  I'm  pressed 
for  time." 

"  Oh,  all  right,"  Hendricks  said,  "  I  can  take  a 
hint.  I'm  going.  How's  your  sleuth  progressing, 
Elliott?  Has  Mr.  Stone  unearthed  the  mur- 
derer yet?  " 

"  Not  yet — but  soon,"  and  Elliott  essayed  to  pass 
the  subject  off  lightly. 

"  Very  soon  ?  "  Hendricks  looked  at  him  in  a 
curious  manner. 


302  RASPBERRY  JAM 

"  Very  soon,  I  think." 

"  That's  interesting.  Would  it  be  indiscreet  to 
ask  in  what  direction  one  must  look  for  the 
criminal  ?  " 

"It  would — very."  Elliott  smiled  a  little.  "Now 
run  along,  Hendricks,  that's  a  good  chap.  I've  im- 
portant business  matters  to  talk  over  with  Eunice." 

Hendricks  went,  and  Elliott  turned  to  Eunice, 
with  a  grave  face. 

"  I've  been  going  over  Sanford's  private  papers," 
he  said,  "  and,  Eunice,  there's  a  lot  that  we  want  to 
keep  quiet." 

"  Was  Sanf ord  a  bad  man  ?  "  she  asked,  her 
quiet,  white  face  imploring  a  negative  answer. 

"  Not  so  very,  but,  as  you  know,  he  had  a  love 
of  money — a  sort  of  acquisitiveness,  that  led  him 
into  questionable  dealings.  He  loaned  money  to  any 
one  who  would  give  him  security " 

"That  isn't  wrong!" 

"  Not  in  itself — but,  oh,  Eunice,  I  can't  explain 
it  to  you — or,  at  least,  I  don't  want  to — but  Sanford 
lent  money  to  men — to  his  friends — who  were  in 
great  exigency — who  gave  their  choicest  belongings, 
their  treasures  as  security — and  then — he  had  no 
leniency — no  compassion  for  them " 

"Why  should  he  have?" 

"  Because — well,  there  is  a  justice,  that  is  almost 


THE  GUILTY  ONE  303 

criminal.  Sanford  was  a — a  Shylock!  There,  can 
you  understand  now?  " 

"  Who  were  his  debtors?    Alvord?  " 

"  Yes;  Hendricks  was  one  who  owed  him  enor- 
mous sums — and  he  was  going  to  make  lots  of 
trouble — I  mean  Sanford  was — why,  Eunice,  in  San- 
ford's  private  safe  are  practically  all  of  Hendricks' 
stocks  and  bonds,  put  up  as  collateral.  Sanford 
holds  mortgages  on  all  Hendricks'  belongings — real 
estate,  furniture — everything.  Now,  just  at  the  time 
Sanford  died  these  notes  were  due — this  indebted- 
ness of  Hendricks  to  Sanford  had  to  be  paid,  and 
merely  the  fact  of  San's  death  occurring  just  when 
it  did  saved  Alvord  from  financial  ruin." 

"  Do  you  mean  Sanford  would  have  insisted  on 
the  payment  ?  " 

"  Yes." 

"Then — oh,  Mason,  I  can't  say  it — I  wouldn't 
breathe  it  to  any  one  but  you — but  could  Alvord 
have  killed  Sanford?" 

"Of  course  not,  Eunice.  He  was  in  Boston, 
you  know." 

"Yes,  I  know.  But — Mason,  he  hinted  to  me 
just  now,  that — that  maybe  you  killed  San." 

"Did  he,  dear?  Then  he  was  angry  or — or 
crazy!  He  doesn't  think  so.  Perhaps  he  was — 
very  jealous." 


RASPBERRY  JAM 

"  Yes,  he  was !    How  did  you  know  ?  " 

"  I  have  eyes.  You  don't  care  for  him — par- 
ticularly— do  you — Eunice  ?  " 

Their  eyes  met — and  in  one  long  look,  the  truth 
was  told.  A  great  love  existed  between  these  two, 
and  both  had  been  honest  and  honorable  so  long  as 
Eunice  was  San  ford's  wife.  And  even  now,  though 
Embury  was  gone,  Elliott  made  no  protestation  of 
love  to  his  widow — said  no  word  that  might  not 
have  been  heard  by  the  whole  world,  but  they  both 
knew — no  word  was  necessary. 

A  beautiful  expression  came  over  Eunice's  face 
— she  smiled  a  little  and  the  lovelight  in  her  eyes 
was  unmistakable. 

"  I  shall  never  lose  my  temper  again,"  she  said, 
softly,  and  Mason  Elliott  believed  her. 

"  Another  big  debtor  to  Sanford  is  Mr.  Patter- 
son," he  went  on,  forcing  himself  to  calm  his  riot- 
ous pulses,  and  continue  his  business  talk. 

"  How  is  that  man  mixed  into  our  affars?  " 

"  He's  very  much  mixed  up  in  San's  affairs. 
But,  Eunice,  I  don't  want  to  burden  you  with  all 
these  details.  Only,  you  see,  Alvord  is  your  lawyer, 
and — it's  confoundedly  awkward " 

"  Look  here,  Mason,  do  this — can't  you  ?  For- 
give Alvord  all  Sanford's  claims  on  him.  I  mean, 
wipe  the  slate  clean,  as  far  as  he  is  concerned.  I 


THE  GUILTY  ONE  305 

don't  want  his  money — I  mean  I  don't  want  to  keep 
his  stocks  and  things.  Give  them  all  back  to  him, 
and  hush  the  matter  up.  You  know,  we  four,  San- 
ford  and  Alvord  and  you  and  I,  are  the  old  quartet 
— the  '  three  boys  and  a  girl '  who  used  to  play  to- 
gether. Now  one  of  us  is  gone — don't  let's  make 
any  trouble  for  another  of  the  group.  I've  enough 
money  without  realizing  on  Alvord's  securities.  Give 
them  all  back  to  him — and  forget  it.  Can't  we?  " 

"  Why,  yes,  I  suppose  so — if  you  so  decree. 
What  about  Patterson? " 

"Oh,  those  things  you  and  Alvord  must  look 
after.  I've  no  head  for  business.  And  anyway — 
must  it  be  attended  to  at  once?  " 

"  Not  immediately.  Sanford's  estate  is  so  large, 
and  his  debtors  so  numerous,  it  will  take  months  to 
get  it  adjusted." 

"  Very  well,  let  anything  unpleasant  wait  for 
a  while,  then." 

Now,  on  this  very  day,  and  at  this  very  hour, 
Fibsy  was  in  Philadelphia,  watching  the  initial  per- 
formance of  a  new  "  human  fly." 

A  crowd  was  gathered  about  the  tall  skyscraper, 
where  the  event  was  to  take  place,  and  when  Han- 
Ion  appeared  he  was  greeted  by  a  roar  of  cheering 
that  warmed  his  applause-loving  heart. 
20 


306  RASPBERRY  JAM 

Bowing  and  smiling  at  his  audience,  he  started 
on  his  perilous  climb  up  the  side  of  the  building. 

The  sight  was  thrilling — nerve-racking.  Breath- 
lessly the  people  watched  as  he  climbed  up  the 
straight,  sheer  faqade,  catching  now  at  a  window 
ledge — now  at  a  bit  of  stone  ornamentation — and 
again,  seeming  to  hold  on  by  nothing  at  all — almost 
as  a  real  fly  does. 

When  he  negotiated  a  particularly  difficult  place, 
the  crowd  forebore  to  cheer,  instinctively  feeling  it 
might  disturb  him. 

He  went  on — higher  and  higher — now  pausing 
to  look  down  and  smile  at  the  sea  of  upturned  faces 
below — and,  in  a  moment  of  bravado,  even  daring 
to  pause,  and  hanging  on  by  one  hand  and  one  foot, 
"  scissor  out "  his  other  limbs  and  wave  a  tiny  flag 
which  he  carried. 

On  he  went,  and  on,  at  last  reaching  the  very  top. 
Over  the  coping  he  climbed,  and  gaily  waved  his 
flag  as  he  bowed  to  the  applauding  crowds  below. 

Then,  for  Hanlon  was  a  daring  soul,  the  return 
journey  was  begun. 

Even  more  fascinating  than  the  ascent  was  this 
hazardous  task. 

Fibsy  watched  him,  noted  every  step,  every  mo- 
tion, and  was  fairly  beside  himself  with  the  excite- 
ment of  the  moment. 


THE  GUILTY  ONE  307 

And,  then,  when  half  a  dozen  stories  from  the 
ground — when  success  was  almost  within  his  grasp 
— something  happened.  Nobody  knew  what — a 
misstep — a  miscalculation  of  distance — a  slipping 
stone — whatever  the  cause,  Hanlon  fell.  Fell  from 
the  sixth  story  to  the  ground. 

Those  nearest  the  catastrophe  stepped  back — 
others  pushed  forward — and  an  ambulance,  ready 
for  such  a  possible  occasion,  hurried  the  wounded 
man  to  the  hospital. 

For  Hanlon  was  not  killed,  but  so  crushed  and 
broken  that  his  life  was  but  a  matter  of  hours — 
perhaps  moments. 

"  Let  me  in — I  must  see  him !  "  Fibsy  fought  the 
doormen,  the  attendants,  the  nurses. 

"  I  tell  you  I  must !  In  the  name  of  the  law, 
let  me  in !  " 

And  then  a  more  coherent  insistence  brought  him 
permission,  and  he  was  immediately  admitted  to 
Hanlon's  presence. 

A  priest  was  there,  administering  extreme  unc- 
tion, and  saying  such  words  of  comfort  as  he  could 
command,  but  at  sight  of  Fibsy,  Hanlon's  dull  eyes 
brightened  and  he  partially  revived. 

"  Yes — him !  "  he  cried  out,  with  a  sudden  flicker 
of  energy,  "  I  must  talk  to  him!  " 


308  RASPBERRY  JAM 

The  doctor  fell  back,  and  made  way  for  the  boy. 

"Let  him  talk,  if  he  likes,"  he  said;  "nothing 
matters  now.  Poor  chap,  he  can't  live  ten  minutes." 

Awed,  but  very  determined,  Fibsy  approached 
the  bedside. 

He  looked  at  Hanlon — strangely  still  and  white, 
yet  his  eyes  burning  with  a  desperate  desire  to  com- 
municate something. 

"  Come  here,"  he  whispered,  and  Fibsy  drew 
nearer  to  him. 

"  You  know?  "  he  said. 

"  Yes,"  and  Fibsy  glanced  around  as  if  to  be 
sure  of  his  witnesses  to  this  strange  confession, 
"  you  killed  Sanford  Embury." 

"  I  did.  I— I— oh,  I  can't— talk.    You  talk " 

"  This  is  his  confession,"  Fibsy  turned  to  the 
priest  and  the  doctor;  "  listen  to  it"  Then  address- 
ing himself  again  to  Hanlon,  he  resumed :  "  You 
climbed  up  the  side  of  the  apartment  house — on  the 
cross  street — not  on  Park  Avenue — and  you  got  in 
at  Miss  Ames'  window." 

"  Yes,"  said  Hanlon,  his  white  lips  barely  mov- 
ing, but  his  eyes  showing  acquiescence. 

"  You  went  straight  through  those  two  rooms — 
softly,  not  awakening  either  of  the  ladies — and  you 
killed  Mr.  Embury,  and  then — you  returned  through 
the  bedrooms " 


THE  GUILTY  ONE  309 

Again  the  eyes  said  yes. 

"  And,  passing  through  Miss  Ames'  room,  she 
stirred,  and  thinking  she  might  be  awake,  you 
stopped  and  leaned  over  her  to  see.  There  you  acci- 
dentally let  fall — perhaps  from  your  breast  pocket— 
the  little  glass  dropper  you  had  used — and  as  you 
bent  over  the  old  lady,  she  grabbed  at  you,  and  felt 
your  jersey  sleeve — even  bit  at  it — and  tasted  rasp- 
berry jam.  That  jam  got  on  that  sleeve  as  you 
climbed  up  past  the  Patterson's  window,  where  a 
jar  of  it  was  on  the  window-sill " 

"Yes — that's  right,"  Hanlon  breathed,  and  on 
his  face  was  a  distinct  look  of  admiration  for  the 
boy's  perception. 

"  You  wore  a  faintly-ticking  wrist-watch — the 
same  one  you're  wearing  now — and  the  odor  of 
gasoline  about  you  was  from  your  motor-cycle.  You, 
then,  were  the  '  vision  '  Miss  Ames  has  so  often  de- 
scribed, and  you  glided  silently  away  from  her  bed- 
side, and  out  at  the  window  by  which  you  entered. 
Gee !  it  was  some  stunt !  " 

This  tribute  of  praise  was  wrung  from  Fibsy 
by  the  sudden  realization  that  what  he  had  for  some 
time  surmised  was  really  true! 

"  I  guess  it  was  that  jam  that  did  for  you,"  he 
went  on,  "  but,  say,  we  ain't  got  no  time  for  talkinV 

Hanlon's  eyes  were  already  glazing,  his  breath 


310  RASPBERRY  JAM 

came  shorter  and  it  was  plain  to  be  seen  the  end 
was  very  near. 

"  Who  hired  you  ?  "  Fibsy  flung  the  question  at 
him  with  such  force  that  it  seemed  to  rouse  a  last 
effort  of  the  ebbing  life  in  the  dying  man  and  he 
answered,  faintly  but  clearly: 

"  Alvord  Hendricks — ten  thousand  dollars " 

and  then  Hanlon  was  gone. 

Reminding  the  priest  and  the  doctor  that  they 
were  witnesses  to  this  dying  confession,  Fibsy 
rushed  from  the  room  and  back  to  New  York  as 
fast  as  he  could  get  there. 

He  learned  by  telephone  that  Fleming  Stone  was 
at  Mrs.  Embury's,  and,  pausing  only  to  telephone 
for  Shane  to  go  at  once  to  the  same  house,  Fibsy 
jumped  into  a  taxicab  and  hurried  up  there  himself. 

"  It's  all  over,"  he  burst  forth,  as  he  dashed  into 
the  room  where  Stone  sat,  talking  to  Eunice.  Mason 
Elliott  was  there,  too — indeed,  he  was  a  frequent 
visitor — and  Aunt  Abby  sat  by  with  her  knitting. 

"  What  is?  "  asked  Stone,  looking  at  the  boy  in 
concern.  For  Fibsy  was  greatly  excited,  his  fingers 
worked  nervously  and  his  voice  shook. 

"  The  whole  thing,  Mr.  Stone !  Hanlon's  dead — 
and  he  killed  Mr.  Embury." 

"  Yes — I  know — "  Fleming  Stone  showed  no 
surprise.  "Did  he  fall?" 


THE  GUILTY  ONE  311 

"  Yessir.  Got  up  the  climb  all  right,  and  'most 
down  again,  and  fell  from  the  sixth  floor.  Killed 
him — but  not  instantly.  I  went  to  the  hospital,  and 
he  confessed." 

"  Who  did  ?  "  said  Shane,  coming  in  at  the  door 
as  the  last  words  were  spoken. 

"  Willy  Hanlon— a  human  fly." 

And  then  Fleming  Stone  told  the  whole  story — 
Fibsy  adding  here  and  there  his  bits  of  information. 

"  But  I  don't  understand,"  said  Shane,  at  last, 
"  why  would  that  chap  kill  Mr.  Embury  ?  " 

"  Hired,"  said  Fibsy,  as  Stone  hesitated  to 
speak ;  "  hired  by  a  man  who  paid  him  ten  thou- 
sand dollars." 

"  Hanlon  a  gunman !  "  said  Shane,  amazed. 

"  Not  a  professional  one,"  Fibsy  said,  "  but  he 
acted  as  one  in  this  case.  The  man  who  hired  him 
knew  he  was  privately  learning  to  be  a  '  human  fly,' 
and  he  had  the  diabolical  thought  of  hiring  him  to 
climb  up  this  house,  and  get  in  at  the  only  available 
window,  and  kill  Mr.  Embury  with  that  hen- 
bane stuff." 

"  And  the  man's  name  ?  "  shouted  Shane,  "  the 
name  of  the  real  criminal  ?  " 

Fibsy  sat  silent,  looking  at  Stone. 

"  His  name  is  Alvord  E.  Hendricks,"  was  Stone's 
quiet  reply. 


312  RASPBERRY  JAI.l 

An  instant  commotion  arose.  Eunice,  her  great 
eyes  full  of  horror,  ran  to  Aunt  Abby,  who  seemed 
about  to  collapse  from  sheer  dismay. 

Mason  Elliott  started  up  with  a  sudden  "  Where 
is  he?  "  and  Shane  echoed,  with  a  roar :  "  Yes,  where 
is  he  ?  Can  he  get  away  ?  " 

"  No,"  said  Stone;  "  he  can't.  I  have  him  cov- 
ered day  and  night  by  my  men.  At  present,  Mr. 
Shane,  he  is — I  am  quite  sure — in  his  office — if  you 
want  to  go  there " 

"  If  I  want  to  go  there!  I  should  say  I  do! 
He'll  get  his!" 

And  in  less  than  half  an  hour,  Shane  had  taken 
Alvord  Hendricks  into  custody,  and  in  due  time  that 
arch  criminal  received  the  retribution  of  justice. 

Shane  gone,  Fibsy  went  over  the  whole  story 
once  again. 

"  You  see,  it  was  Mr.  Stone's  keeping  at  it  what 
did  it.  He  connected  up  Hanlon  and  the  jam — he 
connected  up  Mr.  Hendricks  and  the  Hamlet  busi- 
ness— we  connected  up  Hanlon  and  the  gasoline — 
and  Hanlon  and  the  jersey  and  the  motor-cycle  and 
all ! "  Fibsy  grew  excited ;  "  then  we  connected  up 
Hendricks  and  his  '  perfect  alibi.'  Always  distrust 
the  perfect  alibi — that's  one  of  Mr.  Stone's  first 
maxims.  Well,  this  Hendricks — he  had  a  pluper- 
fect alibi — couldn't  be  shaken — so  Mr.  Stone,  he 


THE  GUILTY  ONE  313 

says,  the  more  perfect  the  alibi,  the  more  we  must 
distrust  it.  So  he  went  for  that  alibi — and  he  found 
that  Mr.  Hendricks  was  sure  in  Boston  that  night, 
but  he  didn't  have  any  real  reason,  not  any  imper- 
ative reason  for  going — it  was  a  sorta  trumped  up 
trip.  Well — that's  the  way  it  was.  He  had  te  get 
Mr.  Embury  out  of  the  way  just  then,  or  be  shewn 
up — a  ruined  man — and,  too,  he  was  afraid  Mr. 
Embury'd  be  president  of  the  club — and,  t*c — he 

wanted  to " 

Fibsy  gave  one  eloquent  glance  at  Eunice,  and 
paused  abruptly  in  his  speech.  Every  one  knew — 
every  ene  realized  that  love  of  Sanford  Embury's 
wife  was  one  reason,  at  least,  for  the  fatal  deed. 
Everybody  realized  that  Alvord  Hendricks  was  a 
villain  through  and  through — that  he  had  killed  his 
friend — though  not  by  his  own  hand. 

Eunice  never  saw  Hendricks  again.  She  and 
Aunt  Abby  went  away  for  a  year's  stay.  They 
traveled  in  lovely  lands,  where  the  scenery  and  cli- 
mate brought  rest  and  peace  to  Eunice's  troubled 
heart,  and  where  she  learned,  by  honest  effort,  to 
control  her  quick  temper. 

And  then,  after  two  of  the  one-time  friendly 


314  RASPBERRY  JAM 

quartet  had  become  only  a  past  memory,  the  re- 
maining two,  Eunice  and  Mason  Elliott,  found 
happiness  and  joy. 

"  One  of  our  biggest  cases,  F.  Stone,"  said  Fibsy, 
one  day,  reminiscently. 

"It  was,  indeed,  Fibs;  and  you  did  yourself 
proud." 

"  Great  old  scheme !  Perfect  alibi — unknown 
human  fly — bolted  doors — all  the  elements  of  a  suc- 
cessful crime — if  he  hadn't  slipped  up  on  that 
Raspberry  Jam ! " 


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